A Lover, Not A Fighter
by FanboyPhaedrus
Summary: With the Dark Lord defeated, the world can begin to pick up the pieces, people can start to rebuild their lives. Of course, some lives take more rebuilding than others. When an unusual prisoner is found, the ministry is in turmoil over how to deal with him. Even the minister struggles to know how best to help this beguiling captive and to put right the wrongs that have been done.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was the summer of 1996. The battle of Hogwarts was over. Somehow, at just 16 years of age, the great Harry Potter and his loyal friends had accomplished the impossible. They had found and destroyed all the horcruxes and defeated the Dark Lord. The wizarding world owed Harry an enormous debt of gratitude, and is was only right therefore that the ministry workers, the Aurors, did the work following the battle.

The clean up. The round up of the escaped death eaters. They needed to be caught and bought under control to prevent any uprising or vengeance attacks. There was no real fear of this, the worst of them were already dealt with. Bellatrix had flung herself into the great lake and drowned herself the moment she saw the Dark Lord was defeated. Greyback had been killed in battle. Many of the other key players had been quick to cry they had been under the Imperius curse the moment they saw their leader fall. However it didn't hurt to be sure. Round them up, try them all and throw the guilty into Azkaban. Not that their lives would be any better if they walked free from Azkaban of course. They would be outcasts. Shunned by society. They were the cowards who had not been strong enough to fight against the Dark Lord. This would be the new class system in the wizarding world. Those who had been loyal to Harry Potter, and those who had not.

The 'clean up' began right away. It was fairly straight forward. Teams of aurors were deployed to the key hide outs of the Dark Lord. His defeated followers were keen enough to indentify the locations in a feeble attempt to win favour. Alastor Moody, Nymphodora Tonks, Remus Lupin and Caraban Sadler took Little Hangleton to carry out a search of The Riddle House.

They apprehended three, hiding in the basement. Low, servile types, it was doubtful the Dark Lord would even have known any of them by name. They were no doubt hiding there until they could either find passage to the continent or slither their way back into the underground.

'Reckon that's the lot of 'em.' Sadler barked, as he dragged the last snivelling suspect from the cellars, pointing his wand at the three of them, holding them safely in the corner.

'Mad Eye's checking upstairs.' Tonks replied, adding her wand to the guard on the death eaters. It was hardly necessary, they were already bound with magical ropes.

'Remus with him?' Sadler asked.

Tonks nodded.

Lupin and Moody reached the top of the grand stair case. The house was dark, dusty and covered with cobwebs. To the untrained eye, it would have looked unused, but to those with the knowledge there were signs. There were tracks in the dust and polished places on the woodwork where people had regularly passed. There were traces of magic, which the experienced eye could detect. There were echoes of spells, as well as physical signs of habitation, crumbs of unspoiled food dropped on the floor. The place had been used. Recently used. It was likely there were more people hiding here. Somewhere.

'Let's split up.' Moody whispered. 'If there is anyone here, they're hiding. They're frightened. We have the upper hand. Nothing to fear.'

Easy for him to say. Even for a werewolf, it was scary, Remus thought. The house was old, sinister. Dark things had happened here. Very dark things. The house rang with memories of the screams and sobs of the damned. Remus pitied anyone who had chosen here as a place of refuge, whatever their reason. He tiptoed down the dark corridor, each step taking him further and further from his colleague.

Alastor Moody walked to the right. There was a dark door looming at the end of the corridor and somehow it was calling to him. It could have been his experienced auror senses or his magical eye, but he almost knew, this room was important. The moment he arrived at the door, his suspicions were confirmed. The room was warded. However, the ward was weak. The spell caster was dead and the spell could easily be broken. It was light work for one of Alastors experience to dissolve the spells which sealed the room.

The door creaked open. Moody raised his wand, casting a lumos charm. What was waiting inside? Whoever, or whatever it was, had been locked in the room by one who was now deceased. Had a suspect secured themselves inside and then committed suicide? Was he going to find a body? Or had the room been sealed by someone who had then left and been killed in the battle? Was the room sealed to protect what was inside, or to prevent it's escape? Did the room hold a weapon, or a prisoner? These were the thoughts in Alastors head as he stepped gingerly over the threshold.

'Who's there?' He called into the darkness, his eyes growing accustomed to the gloom, his lumos charm lighting the space. A small room. A bed. Little more.

Something moved.

Someone.

Someone jumped from the bed itself and now stood, cowering at the end, half hidden behind the footboard.

'Aurors.' Moody barked. 'The place is surrounded. Put down your weapons.'

He heard no reply. No words at least, only frightened gasps from the thin, pale figure. The figure clearly had no weapons. This was no death eater. It could only be a hostage.

Alastor raised his wand a little higher to allow himself to properly see the person he confronted.

He looked closer, to size up his potential opponent. For even a hostage may try to fight if they were frightened enough! He was hardly prepared for the sight that met his eyes.

A child! Well, a youth at least if not a child. A boy. Thin, pale, dressed in little more than rags. He was white as a sheet, with hair to match his skin. He had blue-grey eyes, and they were wide with terror. He shook, visibly, which could be from cold, from fear or from both. He griped the bed as if for strength and stared at Alastor like a mouse stares at a cat who has cornered it and is about to kill.

'Woah, there!' Alastor said, wanting to comfort the boy somehow, yet oddly frightened himself at the same time.

He lowered his wand slightly to appear less threatening.

The boy looked like he were about to run, he was glancing around jerkily as if looking for an escape.

Alastor stared at him. He was not wearing rags after all, he was wearing lace. Scraps of lace. Lingerie! He was barely dressed, but he **was** dressed. Dressed for one thing only. A sinister chill swept over Mad-Eye Moody. He'd seen some things in his time but this was something else altogether!

'Tonks!' Alastor shouted. 'Tonks! Get up here!'

Downstairs, Tonks jumped, and checked with Sadler that she could leave him with the prisoners before she bolted up the staircase.

'Easy there, boy!' Alastor spoke as if he were talking to a frightened horse. 'I'm from the ministry. You're safe now.'

The boy cowered, tears in his eyes, he raised his hands to his face as if for protection.

'You ok, Mad-Eye?' Tonks asked, breathless as she appeared at the door.

'Think we might need your feminine sensitivities in here...' Moody whispered and gestured towards his frightened captive.

'Fucking hell!' Tonks breathed, almost silently as she saw the cowering boy.

'I don't know who he is. Or how he got here.' Alastor clarified in a hushed whisper. 'The room was warded. He was locked inside.'

'It's ok.' Tonks whispered, approaching the boy slowly. 'You're safe now. We're here to help you.' She stepped closer. 'Will you let us?'

Tonks paused, she put her wand away. The poor child was unarmed after all. She took off her long red coat and held it towards the boy.

'Here...' She offered gently.

The boy did not take it. He did not move. She stepped nearer, and nearer still, holding out the coat until she came alongside him. He did not run. He couldn't. There was nowhere to go.

Tonks gently placed the jacket around the boys shoulders. He trembled. She kept her arm around him.

'There now...' She whispered. 'You're safe. We're taking you away from here.'

Remus appeared in the doorway, having heard Moody's shout.

'What the...' He began, and then stopped, the words frozen on his lips. 'Merlin's beard!' He exclaimed in utter disbelief. He looked as though he had seen a ghost. 'It can't... It can't be!... Draco Malfoy?'

Moody looked at Remus like he had gone crazy. Draco Malfoy was dead! No one had seen Draco Malfoy for over a year. He was lost. Gone. Dead. He had been missing so long the ministry had pronounced him deceased and any investigation into his disappearance had been closed. Yet now Remus spoke his name. Remus had known the boy, had taught him at Hogwarts, only a year before his disappearance. It was possible, it was **probable** that he would recognise him now.

Tonks had frozen in her tracks too, and she looked at the boy. She could feel his bones, even through her jacket.

'Are you...' She began. 'Are you... Draco Malfoy?' She whispered, her eyes as wide as his. 'We, we looked for you...' She started, and then choked on her words.

The boy did not speak. These people, they were staring at him. They were asking him questions. they were speaking to him. He couldn't remember the last time a stranger had spoken to him. He did not know how to reply. One of them he recognised. Recognised from what seemed a long time ago. He nodded his head. They knew him. They had called him by his name.

'Gods above!' Remus whispered, rushing forward to Tonks and the frightened captive. 'Draco, we thought you were dead!' He exclaimed.

The boy said nothing but he breathed sharply, his eyes no less frightened than before. Tonks and Lupin stood at either side of him.

'Let's get him out of here.' Moody spoke at last. This was bleak. Bleak in ways he hadn't expected. It was time to leave.

They walked towards the door.

'W-where is he?' A timid, shaky voice uttered.

In unison, they stopped in their tracks. The boy could speak.

'Where is who?' Tonks said gently with great concern.

'The, Dark Lord...' The boy continued. 'He said...' He stopped.

They were all looking at him again.

'What did he say, Draco.' Tonks said, stroking his pale face with a careful hand.

'He said he would come back.' The boy uttered.

Tonks looked at Moody, and then at Remus. All was not as it seemed here.

'He... He was defeated.' She replied, not sure if she was comforting the boy or apologising to him. 'Draco, he was defeated at the battle. He's dead. You're safe now.'

Draco said nothing. The Dark Lord was defeated. And he was now in the hands of these people. It would be stupid, oh so stupid to speak, no matter how much he had longed to speak to someone.

'You're safe now.' Tonks repeated, gripping the boy tightly.

'Remus, you and Tonks can take the boy...' Moody instructed. 'Sadler and I will take the three prisoners.'

'Where do we take him?' Remus asked.

Moody stopped in his tracks. Where did they take him? What was he? A prisoner? A hostage? A follower? A criminal or a victim? Take him to Azkaban, or to St Mungos? They could take him to the ministry to ask for asylum? However, it was unlikely the boy would be able to ask for anything, he spoke very little. He couldn't defend himself.

'Take him to the ministry cells.' Alastor proclaimed. 'Take them all there. House them separately as that's how they will be tried. Take him to the cells, but see that he is safe. We need to let people know we've found him.'

Tonks held Draco tightly.

'I'll take him to a cell.' She said. 'And I'll find help. I'll not leave him. He's my cousin, after all!'

Draco took little of this in. He had quite forgotten he a had family.


	2. Chapter 2

'Draco Malfoy?' Minister Shacklebolt echoed. 'It can't be!'

'It is, Kingsley, I'm sure of it.' Remus confirmed. 'I taught him when he was 13, 14 years old. He can't be much older now. 16, 17 maybe. It's him, I'm sure. He was a prisoner of the Dark Lord.'

Kingsley frowned.

'A prisoner of the Dark Lord?' He asked, musing on the point. 'Was he in the dungeons?'

'No sir.' Tonks replied. 'He was just in the house. Kingsley, please, you have to hear him. Don't let them send him to Azkaban. He's a child! Please!' She implored him informally. He may be the minister for magic but he was, first and foremost, a long standing friend.

Kingsley thought hard.

'Where is he now?' He asked.

'Held in the ministry cells.' Moody replied. 'He's safe, but he will not speak.'

'Not even to me.' Tonks added. 'I sat with him for hours. He wouldn't speak, or sleep. He won't eat, although he drank some water. Kingsley, no one has seen him for years! We don't know what's happened to him!'

'It's ok, Tonks.' Kingsley assured. 'The council will hear him.'

'I'm not sure he's well enough to answer the council, Kingsley.' Tonks frowned. 'He's so thin, and frail. When we found him he was so cold...' She stopped. She had tears in her eyes. She had never known her little cousin and she had always wanted to meet him. In any circumstance other than these.

'Remus, you and Tonks go and make arrangements for a hearing of the council. A fair, unbiased council, although that may be hard to find in this case.' Kingsley replied. 'Have a healer attend. A good one. If the boy looks sick we will postpone the hearing and transfer him to St Mungos right away.'

Tonks nodded and smiled at her friend as Remus led her away. Kingsley was kind. He wouldn't let the poor boy be sent to Azkaban unjustly.

Once they were out of sight, Kingsley turned to Moody.

'Tell me about how the boy was found, Alastor.' He instructed, needing to know the facts.

'I found him locked in a small room. A bedroom. The room was warded, likely by the Dark Lord himself, from the magical signature.' Moody began. 'The boy was inside. He was alone. He was frightened of us, although I'm not sure he knew who we were. He was wearing... not much at all.' Moody explained, in a matter of fact way. 'I thought he was dressed in rags until I looked closer. He was dressed in underwear, black lace type things.'

Kingsley's eyebrows raised in shock.

'I believe he may have been kept as... as a catamite, minister.' Alastor concluded coldly. 'Never in all my years did I expect to see such a thing. The Dark Lord! I thought him beyond such desires, but perhaps no cruelty was beyond him.'

'Are you sure it was the Dark Lord himself who kept the boy?' Kingsley asked. 'Not a high ranking death eater, perhaps?'

'He asked us where the Dark Lord was.' Alastor clarified. 'Tonks told him.'

'What was his reaction?'

'He gave none.' Moody replied.

Kingsley sighed deeply.

'We need to know more about how he came to be there.' He concluded. 'Draco Malfoy disappeared over a year ago. Has he been there all that time? The poor boy!' Kingsley exclaimed in spite of himself. He always tried hard to hide his emotions when he was on duty, even in front of trusted friends.

'It chilled me to the bone, I admit.' Mad eye confessed. 'I've seen fear, but the look on his face when I found him will haunt me to the grave. I thought I'd found a ghost.'

'How is he now?' Kingsley asked suddenly. 'He's in the cells, but how is he cared for? I want him cared for, Alastor.'

'We gave him clothes, right away.' Moody explained. 'There were plenty that had been taken from suspects who have been sent to Azkaban. The sort of thing we usually donated to charitable causes, we found him some warm things to wear.'

Kingsley nodded.

'Has he eaten?'

'Tonks has been trying, but he won't. He won't speak either, so we don't really know why he won't eat.'

'See that he is offered food. In fact, leave food with him. He may eat if he is alone.' Kingsley suggested. 'See that he has a comfortable bed, with good blankets. We let him rest until an unbiased council can be assembled to hear him. It can be a small council if needs be. We just need to know how he got there and to know how he was treated by the Dark Lord. Was he made to do anything besides what you suggest? And if so, can we help him to escape Azkaban, given his unfortunate circumstances.'

Alastor nodded. Kingsley Shacklebolt was fair, just and kind. He would show the Malfoy boy mercy, even if no one else would.

The pink haired girl had been back. She had bought more food, talked for a while and then had left. This time she had left the food behind, and alone, Draco had conceded to eat a little.

The pink haired girl was his cousin, or at least she said she was. This vexed him as he did not remember having a cousin. Had they not ever met, or had he forgotten? He worried he had lost his mind. He sat with his eyes closed and tried hard to picture his parents faces. He focused, concentrated, trying to bring them into his mind as clearly as if he were looking at a photograph. It got harder and harder every day. It had been 6 months since he had seen so much as a photograph of them. He remembered aspects of them. His father had blond hair, like his own, but long. His eyes were dark grey. His mother had dark brown hair and greenish eyes. She was beautiful and looked like a china doll. He tried hard to see them, however, it was merely a list of facts that Draco remembered now, not a real visual image.

Perhaps he **had** lost his mind. It was entirely possible, after everything he'd been through. After being alone all that time. He had tried so hard to keep his mind strong. He recited poetry inside his head. Counted in 2s, 4s, 7s... Remembered songs, made up songs. Studied his hands, memorising the lines and trying to recall them exactly when he looked away. Anything to stop himself from going crazy, when perhaps going crazy would have been the easiest option. **Why** didn't he remember his pink haired cousin?

She had told him lots of things while she had been with him. Useful things. The world had changed. It had changed dramatically and he had seen nothing of it. The Dark Lord was gone, his followers apprehended. Hogwarts was in ruins. Potter was hailed as a hero, even a god. An auror called Kingsley Shacklebolt had replaced Cornelius Fudge as minister for magic.

Draco was to go to a hearing, like everyone who was thought to have allegiance to the Dark Lord. The hearing would decide what would happen to him. Azkaban or freedom. Whatever freedom looked like. He couldn't remember that either.

This meant he could speak at last. His mind was functional enough for that. He could think and he could feel. At long last, after more than a year, he could finally **tell** somebody what had happened! Then they could punish him in the best way. Perhaps punishment was for the best, he decided. After all, there was surely no redemption without penance.

A small council had assembled. Kingsley, presiding over the events. Minevera McGonagall who had some pastoral history with the boy. Cornelius Fudge, as a high ranking official. Miriam Merryweather, a noted healer, with particular skills in treating victims of trauma and spell damage. Aarion DeLacy a high ranking ex-auror turned judge who had been involved in many of the more complex death eater trials. Aarion was a good man, kind and complex, with an innate ability to see a situation from all sides. He would be fair, but he would ask the questions that others would shy away from. Tonks and Remus, Moody and Sadler were there also, as witnesses to the discovery of the boy.

The first thing Kingsley noticed was that Draco was no child! Yes, he was young, he may even have looked younger than his years due to his thinness, but he certainly could not be considered a child. Dressed in long black velvet robes which were slightly too large for him, he looked very pale and very under weight. However, he was immaculately clean and tidy. Whatever comforts he may have declined in his cell, he had certainly washed himself and had brushed his white blond hair which fell softly around his shoulders and into the hood of his robe. It was unfortunate perhaps that his robes were black and hooded. It spoke of the death eaters, and a less sensible jury would have been swayed by this alone. They should have dressed him in pale blue, Kingsley thought. That would have matched his eyes. His wide, frightened, yet surprisingly clear eyes.

Draco Malfoy was escorted by two guards to a chair in the centre of the circular room. McGonagall gasped in shock as she saw him, much as Remus had done. The boy sat down and stared up at his jury, awaiting the questions.

He saw his pink haired cousin, only today she had blue hair. Perhaps he really was going crazy after all? He saw the ones who had found him, the three men. The one he recognised and one he did not know, one he was not sure about. He saw an elderly lady who he knew from somewhere... She must be form school, he decided. There were other people too, people he didn't know. And overseeing it all was a handsome, dark skinned man, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new minister for magic. He would cast the final judgement. He looked stern, but he looked kind also. Draco wondered if he would be kind during the trial. But what would kindness look like? Draco did not know how he would plead, what he would ask for. He couldn't decide. Could you ask a jury for redemption, or did you simply have to ask the gods?

The council stood, and Draco followed suit, not sure if this was protocol, but he was used to reacting quickly to non verbal commands which he often guessed at. It seemed he was correct to do so as the minister spoke.

'Draco Malfoy.' His rich voice rang through the chamber. 'You have been missing for over a year, presumed dead until you were discovered at the family home of the late Tom Riddle, otherwise known as Lord Voldemort.'

Some of the council flinched at the name. Draco did not.

'This is not quite like a formal trial, Draco.' The minister continued. 'For now, all we need to know is how you came to be at the home of the Dark Lord and where you have been this last year.'

There was a silence.

'Do you understand, Draco?' Kingsley asked.

Draco nodded.

'Can... Can you speak?' Kingsley asked tentatively.

'Yes. Yes, minister Shacklebolt, sir.' Draco said, as if to prove it.

His voice was light and clear, but a little shaky.

'Let us start at the beginning, Draco.' Kingsley said gently and he bid them all to be seated. 'Tell the council all you can. Remember you can ask for leave, should you have need of it. You are not declared a criminal yet. But know also, should any of the council have cause to believe you are lying, you may be questioned under veritiserum. Do you understand this, Draco.'

'Yes minister Shacklebolt, sir.' Draco replied softly. 'I have no intention of lying to anyone.' His said eyes closed for a second and he hung his head.

'Well, good.' Kingsley replied. 'Begin then, where have you been this last year, Draco Malfoy?'

Draco swallowed hard.

'I have been in the service of the Dark Lord.' Draco said simply.

There was a sharp gasp in the room, followed by a rush of hushed whispers.

'May I interject here sir?' One of the guards spoke up.

Kingsley nodded.

'The boy claims he has been in the service of the Dark Lord, yet as his guard and as junior healer who attended him on his arrival, I can confirm absolutely that he does not bare the dark mark. This boy is no death eater, sir.'

Many in the room looked confused.

'Thank you, Horroway.' Kingsley replied. 'Draco, is this correct? Your guard says that you are not a death eater.'

'That is true sir.' Draco said, an odd calmness in his voice. 'I am not a death eater.'

'Yet you claim to have been in the Dark Lord's service. If you were not a death eater Draco, tell me, how were you of service to him?'

'I was his lover.' Draco replied.

There was a stunned silence in which time seemed to stand still. McGonagall gripped her chair tightly in shock. Tonks covered her face with her hands. Moody shook his head sadly and looked down. Nothing about the scene he had walked into implied that they boy had been any kind of consensual lover!

Kingsley frowned and leaned forward, looking closely at the boy who so far had betrayed no emotion.

'How did this situation come to be?' He asked calmly, needing more information, more facts to make sense of this bizarre revelation.

Draco sighed deeply. He remembered it well:

 _Following the disastrous hunt for the prophecy in the department of mysteries, Lucius Malfoy was arrested. No one was surprised. They were however, surprised when Narcissa Malfoy was also arrested. The cynical amongst them speculated that she had contrived to be arrested and put in Azkaban with her husband, purely for her own safety, to keep herself out of reach of the wrath of the Dark Lord. It wouldn't have been an all together stupid move, but for one problem. Her arrest, along with her husbands, meant their 15 year old son, Draco Malfoy, was left completely alone to face the consequences of his parents failings._

 _Draco was afraid. He had never been the bravest boy at the best of times. Yet he was proud. Proud of his family, their name, their reputation and standing. Now they were disgraced and he was the only one left who could rectify that. This was his intention and he would make that clear when he met with the Dark Lord. He wanted to serve, to win back his family's dignity. He wanted redemption._

 _They met one evening. It was a Friday. Draco dressed smartly. He wore a fearless expression which he had practiced. He had expected an audience, yet it transpired that they met alone._

 _Voldemort sat in a large imposing chair at the end of a long room. Draco had been invited here by port key, being not yet old enough to apparate. Queasy from the journey and from his growing anxiety, he steadied himself and approached the chair and made a low bow._

 _'My Lord.' He said sincerely. 'It is my honour to serve you.'_

 _Voldemort's eyes ran over the boy before him. He had seen photographs of Draco at the Manor. He had thought him striking. In the flesh, he was more so. In the flesh, he was beyond beautiful, confirming Voldemort's plans for him._

 _'Do you truly wish to serve me, Draco Malfoy?' The Dark Lord hissed in a snake-like voice._

 _Draco shivered at the sound._

 _'I wish to serve you and to redeem my family, my Lord. My father has shamed us. I wish to win back our honour.' Draco recited the words he had rehearsed 100 times._

 _Voldemort stood up and approached the boy. His movements were light, quick and unpredictable._

 _'Your father has fought for me, he has_ _ **murdered**_ _at my command. Can_ _ **you**_ _do that for me, Draco?_ _ **Can**_ _you?' Voldemort hissed angrily._

 _Draco, eyes wide, swallowed hard. He had only suspicions until now. He had never wanted to think it was true. His father, it seemed, really was a killer. In truth, Draco didn't know if he_ _ **could**_ _do that._

 _'I... I could try to, my Lord...' He managed, a sick taste in his mouth._

 _'No Draco.' Voldemort spat. 'No, you could not. Besides, I have warriors in my army already. Vicious, experienced fighters. People who kill for pleasure...'_

 _Draco's blood ran cold in his veins. Why had he ever thought he could do this? However 'bad' he wanted to think himself, he knew deep down, he was no killer. If he were honest, he didn't even like putting pixie poison down in the manor grounds._

 _'I have no room in my army for foolish little boys who want to 'try' to fight for me.' Voldemort concluded sharply._

 _Draco looked down at the floor, his face flushed with shame. He had failed before he had even begun._

 _'However, I do need other things besides fighters, Draco.' Voldemort hissed, with a slightly softer tone in his voice than previously._

 _Draco looked up._

 _'I will do whatever you require of me.' He answered, desperate to do and say the right thing._

 _'Will you?' Voldemort smiled. 'I have needs that you might not be aware of, which you could fulfil.'_

 _Draco looked perplexed, unsure what Voldemort meant._

 _'You are so young, Draco Malfoy.' Voldemort hissed, standing mere inches from the nervous boy, towering over him, and casting him into shadow. 'So young and fresh and innocent.' The Dark Lord whispered, his cold hand touching Draco's face, lifting his chin and Draco finally began to realise what was about to be asked of him._

 _'My Lord?' He replied nervously._

 _'Do you think a monster like me is beyond noticing such things?' Voldemort asked._

 _'I... I don't know.' Draco answered, still unsure of what was happening._

 _'I am still human, at least in part.' Voldemort whispered. 'I have... human needs. I need... contact. I need... touch.'_

 _His cold hand caressed Draco's face, fingertips tracing his lips._

 _'What... What do you want from me, my Lord?' Draco stammered, afraid that tears were forming in his eyes._

 _Voldemort turned away from Draco. He did not want to see horror and repulsion on the boys face._

 _'I want you to be my lover.' He said in a cold, hard voice._

'You went to him willingly and offered to be in his service?' Aarion asked, recovering the ability to speak before the others.

Draco nodded.

'My family were gone. I couldn't face going back to Hogwarts. I thought I had nowhere else to go.'

Aarion nodded.

'You were a fool to go there, weren't you?' He asked.

'I was never otherwise, in my whole life.' Draco confessed, maintaining eye contact with the attractive man who was questioning him.

Aarion looked at Draco with pity in his handsome, swarthy face. However, pity or not, it was his job to interrogate the suspect.

'You couldn't kill, he knew that, didn't he? And so did you, really?' Aarion continued.

'I didn't know for sure until he put it to me, and told me that my father had done...' Draco stopped and gripped the arms of the chair, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. It was the first sign of emotion he had shown. Even as he described the scene, he had remained impassive.

'What happened next?' Aarion asked. He had clarified his point to the crowd. Draco was no death eater, not in his eyes. He was simply a foolish and misguided child who had acted in fear and had paid a terrible price.

Draco braced himself to remember the scene once more:

 _'I want you to be my lover.' Voldemort had said in a cold, hard voice._

 _At first Draco said nothing, his heart hammered inside his chest. What did this mean? Was he too weak to fight and this was all he was good for? This would not redeem his family honour! Surely this would bring more shame upon them!_

 _'You will come to me once a week, every Friday, starting tonight.' Voldemort continued, still with his back to the boy. 'You will come to me_ _ **willingly**_ _. You will give me your consent. You will come to my bed and let me have you however I please... I will not hurt you.' He added in a cross, yet slightly softer tone._

 _'You... you wont...' Draco echoed, his head spinning with confusion. He had expected taunting, expected humiliation, expected pain as he took the dark mark... He had expected to be given a task that scared him... But not this one!_

 _Voldemort turned back to him._

 _'No. I will not hurt you. That is not what you are for. I have other people I can hurt when I want to. I want you, Draco, to meet my_ _ **other**_ _needs.'_

 _He stepped close to the boy again and Draco looked up at him. He really looked at him, for the first time. His skin was grey, his eyes were red. His face, though distorted and snake-like, was not altogether unattractive. Once, once he must have been handsome, Draco thought. Handsome, perhaps even beautiful... Up close like this, yes, he actually was still a little bit human. Must he be terribly lonely to make this request?_

 _'You will let me touch you. Your warm skin, your young body. Your purity, your innocence, you will give them to me. You will take no other lover and you will tell_ _ **no one**_ _.' Voldemort commanded._

 _He waited for Draco's response._

 _Draco shook with fear. What choice did he have? He had no choice at all. He had come to serve and had already said he would do whatever was required of him, not imagining for a second that this would be what was asked._

 _Was it worse, really, than what_ _ **could**_ _be asked of him? It shamed him, certainly. It meant that he was weak, he was girlish, he was a coward. Yet this was not how the proposition had been put to him. Voldemort had not told him_ _ **this**_ _was all he was good for, had not laughed, had not humiliated him. He had asked him alone, insisted he told no one. Perhaps this was not only about Draco's weaknesses..._

 _The Dark Lord had told him he would not hurt him if he came to his bed willingly. He had no need to have told him this. He had told him purely to reassure him. He had offered him this task, quite genuinely._

 _What were the other options? Were there other options? Death? Torture? Trying to learn to kill...?_

 _'Once a week?' Draco echoed. 'E - every, F - Friday?' His voice shook._

 _Voldemort smiled a sinister smile._

 _'Starting tonight.' He confirmed. 'I must admit, you acquiesced more readily than I thought you might. This pleases me, and confirms, you will never be a fighter, Draco Malfoy...' He drawled, his hands back on Draco's face._

 _'I... I came to serve you.' Draco managed._

 _'And so you shall.' Voldemort hissed coldly. 'Once a week. Every week. And you will have no other. And you shall tell no one about this.'_

 _'Yes, my Lord.' Draco whispered, one single tear rolling down his cheek. He felt desperately alone in the world._

 _Voldemort frowned and crossly wiped away Draco's tear._

 _'Willingly, Draco. You come_ _ **willingly**_ _.' He hissed, taking Draco by the arm and leading him towards the door._

The shocked silence in the round courtroom was deafening and once again it was Aarion who spoke first.

'You said yes. You had no choice really, did you?' He prompted.

Draco was looking down at the floor and this time he did not look up.

'I didn't think I had a choice, no. At least, not at that point. It was Friday and my first act of service was required. I couldn't refuse him.' Draco almost whispered.

'And did it happen that very night?' Aarion asked, asking the questions no other wanted to ask.

'Yes.' Replied Draco still looking at the floor.

There was a moments silence before Draco recovered himself.

'It happened that night, and, no, I had never done it before.' He confessed, looking up at Aarion now, his voice clear again as though he had mastered any rising pain. 'It happened right then and there, in the room where your aurors found me. I did everything he told me. I went with him willingly, I gave him my consent, and he, for his part was true to his word. He didn't hurt me, not any more than could be helped, at least. Afterwards, I dressed again and he let me leave, after reminding me that I would return in 7 days and do the same.'

'He let you leave?' Fudge interjected now. 'He let you come and go of your own free will? That is certainly not the behaviour of a captive, minister!' He looked at Kingsley. 'That is the action of a follower, is it not?'

'I told you I served him.' Draco said coldly. 'I was not a prisoner. Not at that point. Yes, I could come and go as I was required.'

'Did you not think to get help once you left the place?' Aarion asked.

'Who would I tell? I was so ashamed.' Draco replied and his sentiments were understood by all in the room.

'Where did you go?' Aarion asked with genuine curiosity.

'I went to the manor.' Draco answered. 'I know you searched for me there, but I know that house well. I know it's secrets. I hid from you until you decided the place was deserted and it was left to fall into decay.'

'Why did you hide from the aurors, Draco?' Kingsley asked gently.

'You had taken my parents to Azkaban. I hated the aurors, and the ministry at that point. Plus I was scared. I was scared if I was found and my actions discovered I would be thrown into Azkaban as well. The Dark Lord was only one man, and he had kept his word and had not hurt me. Would the inmates of Azkaban do the same?'

Kingsley thought about this. Draco may have announced himself to be foolish at the start of his confession, but clearly he was not stupid!

'Draco, Mr Malfoy...' Professor McGonagall spoke at last. 'These events took place shortly after your parents were arrested, am I correct?'

Draco nodded.

'Can you tell me then, how old were you at the time?' She asked anxiously.

'I was 15.' Draco answered straightforwardly.

The troubled whispering started up again.

'Minister...' McGonagall began. 'Mr Malfoy may be a young man now, but at the time he was a minor, a child! He was ordered to give consent which he could not legally give. Minister, I implore you, the boy is no criminal, but a victim. Yet another victim of the Dark Lord's control. Must we hear him in this setting like he is on trial? I'll not condone it, I simply won't!'

Kingsley was quiet for a second before he replied.

'Your concerns are upheld, Minerva. I share the same feeling. This is not the correct way to hear this boy.' He looked to the others who seemed largely in agreement.

Draco sat in silence, watching and listening, wondering what they thought of him and how they would decide to punish him once the whole story was known.

'Draco.' Kingsley addressed him at last. 'Your guards will return you to your room while we discuss how best to hear you. We must consider what you have already told us and decide how we must proceed.'

Draco nodded.

'You have been brave by speaking to us as you have done, Draco.' He concluded. 'There is more we need to know from you, but for now, you may return to your room.'


	3. Chapter 3

The trial adjourned and Draco was grateful of the respite, although he wouldn't have asked for it. A part of him wanted to get the whole ordeal over with, in one go so he could be sentenced there and then. Thrown into a cell in Azkaban to rot, most probably. At least he would get to see his parents again. It had been so long since he had seen them. They would forgive him for what he had done, even if the rest of the world hated him forever. His parents knew what it was like to be commanded by the Dark Lord. They would understand.

He was also grateful that the council had not doubted the truth of what he told them. He really had been speaking the truth, after all, but none the less he feared the threat of Veritiserum. He would not lie to the council, but there were plenty of things he did not wish to tell them. Things they did not need to know. Things that Veritiserum would force out of him.

He did not want to tell them about the first time...

 _Voldemort had led him from the downstairs meeting room out into the entrance hall of the old, sinister house. He led him up the central staircase and along the corridor. He did not speak. The journey had seemed to take forever. Draco remembered not knowing where they were going, he had assumed a bedroom, but didn't know just how far away it was. It would almost have been preferable to have done the deed right there in the room where they had met. The walk was dragging the whole thing out, delaying the inevitable, giving him false hope that somehow there might be a way out of this arrangement._

 _The walk gave Draco time to think. To wonder just how much it would hurt, how exactly might it feel, just how long would it all take? He was so frightened. What if it hurt terribly? What if he cried? He was supposed to give consent. How hard would that be?_

 _At last they arrived at a door which opened before them admitting them into the small bedroom with which Draco would become so familiar._

 _Voldemort dragged Draco inside and the door shut behind them. Still he did not speak. He led Draco to the bed where he climbed on to it and knelt there, simply looking at the boy. Draco stood helplessly by the side of the bed, staring back at the monster who had brought him there._

 _'Undress.' Voldemort commanded him._

 _Draco had been taken aback by the command. He had expected to have been stripped, or simply taken, with the majority of his clothes on. Instead, he was expected to take a more leading role and remove his own clothes independently. It didn't take Draco long to realise, this was part of the consent that the Dark Lord wanted from him. Him undressing himself showed his willingness, made it as though he was not being forced against his will. Draco trembled as he followed the command. It may have met Voldemort's needs for a willing lover, but it did not meet Draco's needs for some kind of reassurance. He had never undressed in front anyone in his life, he didn't even use the team showers after Quidditch. He was almost as terrified about being naked in front of someone as he was about being fucked by someone. Already he wished it was different. Already he wished that the Dark Lord was undressing him._

 _It didn't get any less frightening as he progressed. He got down to his underwear before he finally accepted that no brave hero was going to rush into the room and rescue him. He removed the last of his clothes._

 _His cock was small, flaccid. There was no sign of arousal about him and this displeased Voldemort. What did please him however, was the way that Draco, clothes now completely removed, climbed onto the bed without waiting for an instruction. He got onto the bed of his own free will, on his knees, glancing back at the Dark Lord, readying himself for what was to come._

 _Voldemort moved close behind Draco and suddenly his cold hands were all over Draco's naked body. There was no lead in to it, no build up at all. Suddenly one hand was cupping and squeezing Draco's soft cock and balls, the other running over his bare chest and torso. Draco wanted to squirm away. Even though he knew he had to allow this, he would have more readily done so if the Dark Lord had taken his time first. Touched him lightly, on his shoulders perhaps...? Stroked his arms, teased him and moved into the heavier touching more gradually. However, he realised he should never have expected that. The Dark Lord was not seducing him, after all. If Draco was sure about one thing it was that this was not about his pleasure, it was only about Voldemort's. He had to consent. Even if he didn't like it. He gritted his teeth._

 _'Do you want me, Draco Malfoy?' The Dark Lord's snake-like voice hissed in his ear._

 _Draco shivered and froze for a moment. He got the feeling the Voldemort had said it to sound vaguely threatening, to remind him his explicit consent was required. Yet in the moment that Voldemort whispered in his ear, he didn't feel threatened. He felt a flicker of something else entirely. He felt a flicker of arousal as he felt Voldemort's breath on his skin and his needy gasp betrayed him._

 _'Y-yes, my Lord.' He answered, sounding more authentic than he had imagined he would be able to sound. It was small, but it was the first moment of intimacy between them._

 _Voldemort had accidently arrived at something which drew genuine enthusiasm from the boy. His over keen touching had turned Draco off, but his whisper, designed to threaten him had had quite the opposite effect. It was rather interesting._

 _'Are you frightened?' He hissed again. Draco was not getting hard, despite being toyed with._

 _'I've never done this before.' Draco whispered back, sounding like he was confessing._

 _Voldemort was delighted. He had hoped this would be the case. He slipped one hand down Draco's back and moved it between his legs, pushing them apart. His cold fingers pressed against Draco's entrance._

 _Draco gripped the headboard tightly and focused as hard as he could on forcing his body to relax._

 _Suddenly there was a wetness between his ass cheeks, something running down his legs. For a moment he panicked, worried that Voldemort had cut him and he was bleeding, but there was no pain. Then he realised. It was a lubrication charm. He had heard of them of course. Older students at Hogwarts talked about that kind of thing all the time. Draco had not been raised to be that sort of person however, and sexual promiscuity was not something he indulged in. Or at least, it hadn't been until now._

 _He had, of course, touched himself in the past and thought that he knew what it would feel like if Voldemort penetrated him with his fingers. The reality was really quite different. When Voldemort did penetrate him, almost right away, it was nothing like when he had done it himself. Voldemort's fingers were colder than his own and it felt strange to be touched by someone else, to not have control over the penetration. In fact, Draco did not have control over anything at all. No matter what, he had to be 'happy' about what was happening to him and welcome whatever Voldemort did to him._

 _This penetrative foreplay, like the rest of it, was brief, and somewhat insufficient to make Draco truly ready for sex. It was a token gesture, a warning of what was to come, at best._

 _Voldemort did not undress. He remained clothed, asserting his power over the naked and powerless boy. He simply pushed back his robes and guided the head of his cock to Draco's ass._

 _It was perhaps a good thing that Draco couldn't see Voldemort's erection. He was large, his cock was thick and long. Seeing him would only have made Draco panic and therefore tense more. Draco stopped breathing as Voldemort pushed his way inside him. It hurt despite the fact he was being slow and gentle._

 _When Voldemort had insisted he would not hurt him, Draco knew what he meant was, he would_ _ **not go out of his way**_ _to hurt him. He would not smack him around, flog him, beat him or curse him as part of their coupling. Not hurting him did not extend to not penetrating him because it was painful. Somehow, the gods only knew how, Draco would have to relax into this searing hot pain and the deep tensing he felt inside._

 _But suddenly, through the pain and through his fear, He felt Voldemort's hand on his face. It stroked his hair back and he whispered to him again._

 _'That's so good, Draco. You feel so good around my cock. You like having me inside you, don't you Draco Malfoy? It feels good to you, doesn't it?'_

 _Something about his words, or perhaps his voice, was dizzying and Draco almost swooned. Gasping for breath, and to his shock the pain had suddenly seemed to lessen. He replied._

 _'Yes, my Lord. So, so good,'_

 _It wasn't true or course, but it was what he was meant to say. It also wasn't completely untrue either. There were moments which bordered on pleasure even during this painful first time, and mostly they occurred when Voldemort whispered to him._

 _Draco was unsure just how long the experience lasted. Time didn't seem to make sense while it was happening. He just noticed that at last Voldemort quickened his thrusts, they became shallower and suddenly, it was over. Voldemort pulled out of him, and the pain stopped almost instantly, but was followed by the humiliating sensation of Voldemort's come trickling out of him and running down his inner thigh. Draco was almost too shocked to notice or care._

 _Once he was given permission he dressed quickly and it wasn't until he was back at the manor that he realised something that troubled him._

 _He was not crying._

 _He had felt like he was going to cry the whole time it was happening, but now that it was over, he felt oddly ok. He wasn't hurt and he wasn't even as traumatised as he had thought he would be. He took a healing potion, just in case and he drank some of his father's vintage fire whiskey. He was a bit shaken up, but still not crying. The whole experience had been cold, impersonal and frightening but now it was over. It almost didn't seem real, not now that he was back home again._

Draco stared numbly at the bare walls of his cell. The small window let in a piercing beam of daylight and in it he watched dust particles floating aimlessly, illuminated by the sun. He wondered what was happening in the council chambers. What were they talking about? What did they think of him? He wondered just how much more he would have to tell them.

Draco did not wish to tell the council that the second time had been very much like the first, and the third time very much like the second. The fourth time much like the third and the fifth like the forth. The sixth time however, the sixth time was somehow nothing like the first. Each time, in fact had been subtly different from the time before and Draco had hardly noticed until the sixth time. The sixth time Voldemort had kissed him.

 _Each time Draco had gone to Voldemort he had been afraid, but once the encounter was over he had been relieved and surprised at how much less horrible the experience had been than he had imagined it would be. He always wished Voldemort would be slower and take a little more time before hand, which was strange as logically it would be better for it all to be over with as quickly as possible. However, Draco noticed something on the 4th time they were together which at first upset him, but then became a positive thing, a way of coping._

 _The 4th time he went to Voldemort, he had begun to undress un-commanded. He was more practiced at this now and even managed a smile as he did it. He removed his clothes slowly, but deliberately and he couldn't help but notice that Voldemort seemed to particularly enjoy watching his new found confidence. He decided to try something. A subtle, seductive toss of his hair, combined with a sexy little gasp as he let his last garments drop to the floor. Did it make it worse? No one else was there to witness it, there was already no honour in the situation. Really, it seemed to make no difference at all if Draco played along or not._

 _The Dark Lord smiled. Naturally, the boy was getting better at this. Of course he was. One look at him told anyone he was practically built for sexual slavery. He looked like the sort of boy who would enjoy it, and low and behold, he was! Consent was coming more naturally now, and as a well raised young man should be, he was keen to please._

 _Draco climbed onto the bed, on his knees, as always, with his back to Voldemort, although he glanced back at him. This was the position he always took, on his knees, holding onto the headboard. Voldemort moved close behind him, and Draco noticed the sensation of his breath on his neck. He noticed himself tremble as Voldemort's hand touched his hip and he realised; this was it. This was the sum of all the human interaction he was going to get. The total amount of contact, conversation and touch he would receive was all about to happen, right now. After this, he would leave and he would not see, speak to, or have physical contact with another living soul for another seven days. Draco realised,_ _ **he needed this**_ _._

 _He leant back, so that his back pressed against Voldemort's body, that way it was almost like being held. As Voldemort took told of his cock and began to toy with him, he felt the strangest ripple of desire beginning to stir within him and his body, for the first time, began to respond to the physical stimulation. Draco did not climax on that 4th time, but he noticed that his arousal had made the experience easier to cope with._

 _He dressed afterwards and left when he was told to, and when he got home to the manor, he cried. It was the first time he had cried since the whole sordid situation came about and he cried now because he saw what he was being reduced to. What should have been hateful to him was now becoming something he felt grateful for, something he needed. Draco cried for a very long time until he fell asleep._

 _The 5th time he went to Voldemort, Draco was anxious about whether he would respond physically to Voldemort's touch again. The Dark Lord had seemed pleased by Draco's arousal and Draco wondered if he would disappoint him this time. He did not. Draco felt himself getting hard even as he undressed. He could only conclude that loneliness had driven him to it. He closed his eyes and sighed as Voldemort touched him. He flinched with pleasure as Voldemort fucked him._

 _He discovered that if he arched his back in a certain way it hurt less. It not only hurt less, but if he leant into it the right way, there was a point where it felt... electrifying. It was addictive and Draco cried out loud with pleasure. Voldemort fucked him harder and harder and suddenly, Draco came. He was both shocked and horrified with himself to the point where he didn't even notice Voldemort finishing. Voldemort was delighted, and pleased with his own cleverness at finding such an appropriate use for the boy, who certainly would have been useless at fighting._

 _That night, when Draco returned home he didn't cry. Instead he masturbated. It felt like he was taking his body back for himself, but he was thinking about the Dark Lord as he did it. The thought came upon him, if he had to be a whore, he might as well be a good one. Not only was it probably the wisest thing to do, to please Voldemort as much as possible, to play his cards right; but it was also perhaps the best way to make it bearable for himself. Take pleasure where he could find it. Besides, when you have not seen another person for 7 days, even seeing someone who scares you is better than nothing. When no one has spoken you for a week, even commands are better than hearing no other voice at all. When no one has made physical contact with you for a long as you can remember, even being fucked by someone you don't want is better than nothing. And eventually, you start to want them anyway._

 _It was the 6th time that really stood out in Draco's memory as the time things changed. He took his usual position, but he looked back at Voldemort more keenly. He continued to look back, even when Voldemort was right behind him, was touching him. He was aroused, and he could feel Voldemort's arousal pressing into his back. It wouldn't be long before Voldemort fucked him. Voldemort's breath on his neck made him tingle and shiver with desire. It was far more obvious than before and when Voldemort's lips seized the delicate flesh of his neck, he gasped loudly and he spoke._

 _'Gods! Yes!'_

 _Voldemort could resist no longer. No part of Draco should be off limits to him, after all. He pressed his mouth over Draco's and kissed him deeply and aggressively._

 _It wasn't a nice kiss, Draco reflected afterwards. It was too hard, it almost hurt, and like everything Voldemort did, it was too much, too quick. But it was a kiss. It was Draco's first kiss, and it was better than no kiss at all._

 _It was not the only kiss Voldemort gave Draco that evening, and the others were better. The first kiss had established ownership of Draco's lips, but from then on, they were less forceful, although just as claiming. Voldemort kissed Draco while he fucked him, as if he wanted to be inside Draco in every way he could be. In his mouth, in his ass, in his body, in his very soul. His hands all over Draco, he fucked, entered and penetrated Draco in every way he could. And Draco, feeling utterly used and rather like a sex toy, was only a little disturbed and not very surprised when he came harder than he ever had before._

 _Once Voldemort had finished, Draco flopped forward onto the bed and lay there completely overwhelmed by the experience. He felt a little like he had been mauled by a lion or perhaps thrown into a patch of devils snare, or torn apart by an angry hippogriff... but somehow he had actually enjoyed it._

 _Voldemort looked at the speechless, motionless boy and smiled. This was exactly what he had in mind. Draco Malfoy was learning how to take cock and was doing well at learning to love it. Voldemort had known this was all he would be good for, but good for it, he was!_

 _This time, when Draco left, Voldemort gave him the lightest and briefest touch on his face just before he parted. Perhaps it was a reward for his efforts?_

 _It was after this that Draco began to become more confident about these illicit unions. He was no longer afraid every time and he began to feel relaxed about going to Voldemort each Friday. It must have been about the 7th week that Draco found himself on Friday afternoon, bathing himself at the manor and reaching for a razor. One of his fathers, it was lethally sharp and a dark thought flashed through Draco's mind, but only for a second. He could end it all with this razor, that was a powerful feeling certainly, but that was not why he had picked it up._

 _Slowly and carefully, Draco began to drag the razor over his long pale legs, removing what small traces of body hair which he had, leaving his skin silky and as smooth as a statue. He shivered with excitement. It felt arousing and he felt his cock stirring. He saw no reason to stop with his legs. Draco, with his pale colouring, did not have much body hair to begin with, but he found that after carefully shaving every trace of pubic hair he had, he felt very different. He got out of the bath and stood before the mirror._

 _He looked sexy, and he felt ready for sex. Made for it, in fact. It surprised him. He ran his hand down his body and touched his cock, his perfectly smooth balls. Free from hair, his sensations of touch were heightened and he drew breath slowly as he stood before the mirror touching himself. He realised with a flutter of fear and a flutter of nervousness that he_ _ **wanted**_ _to go to Voldemort._

 _He found some sweet smelling oil and anointed his whole body with it, smoothing it into his skin everywhere. He worked the length of his erect shaft with one slippery hand and the other he moved to the tight little opening between his pert ass cheeks. Feeling a rush of exhilaration, he slipped his finger inside himself, gasping at the thrill, imagining how it felt when Voldemort took him. Closing his eyes, Draco pleasured himself to a climax which made him cry out loud and it was only afterwards that he felt a little guilty and ashamed about what he had done._

 _He thought about it deeply. He had to go to Voldemort. He had to please Voldemort and somewhere within the sex ritual he followed every week, would it really be so wrong to please himself? Was it terrible to allow_ _ **himself**_ _some enjoyment as well as the Dark Lord? If preparing himself this way meant that the experience was better for him, then it was surely a good thing? He looked once more at his beautiful and newly exposed body, sure that Voldemort would be pleased with his efforts._

 _He was not mistaken about that. Voldemort watched Draco undress as usual, unsure initially if he would kiss the boy again as he had done last week. He mused over the idea but was shaken out of his thoughts when Draco dropped the last item of his clothing to the floor and climbed willingly onto the bed._

 _He placed himself near to Voldemort, nearer than usual, almost in his lap, and he gave him a smouldering look._

 _Voldemort's eyes trailed over his naked body, his perfectly smooth naked body._

 _'Well done, Draco. Well done.' He hissed approvingly, his hand sliding downwards to Draco's cock, which was hard already!_

 _Draco felt beautiful to touch like this. He smelled amazing too. Voldemort was delighted to imagine his sweet, willing little whore busily preparing himself for their encounter. Waiting at his home, making himself ready for him. It was a wonderful thought, sexy and arousing. This was how it should be. This was better than simply giving consent. This sort of behaviour meant that Draco was willing to be truly his. Meant he accepted now that he_ _ **was**_ _truly his. His willing sex slave. His pleasure-toy. It had hardly taken any training at all._

 _The kissing question answered itself as Voldemort took Draco's lips and Draco's mouth yielded willingly to his tongue, sucking on it, wanting more, deeper kisses, more contact._

 _It was time for another first. Last week had been the first time that Voldemort had kissed his catamite, this week it would be Draco's turn for a 'first.' For the very first time, Draco reached his hand back behind him. He reached back into Voldemort's robes and felt for his cock. He wrapped his fingers around the thick shaft and began to tug it in the same rhythm as Voldemort tugged him._

 _It had not occurred to Draco, but it had occurred to Voldemort that this might be a ploy of Draco's to make the actual sex happen more quickly. So, however enjoyable it was, he did not allow Draco to play with him for too long. Instead he quickly pushed Draco onto his hands and knees and mounted him instantly, without having touched him inside first. But it didn't matter, Draco knew what to expect now and being turned on made all the difference to whether or not he felt any pain at being penetrated._

 _In his arousal he felt no pain at all and gasped loudly in pure pleasure as Voldemort thrust inside him. Voldemort hissed with delight at just how willing and obedient Draco had become. There really was no way that Draco would tell anyone about their little arrangement, not now he was clearly enjoying it so much himself. He would get Draco off this evening, and not for the first time, he thought with great satisfaction. He pounded his sweet smelling, clean and smooth little whore until he made him come._

 _Draco came with even greater force and enthusiasm than he had that afternoon. There was something deeply sexy about having pleased his lover, about having turned him on. There was some kind of kink in the selflessness of having gone out of his way to make his body gratifying to Voldemort. It had been so effective and he had felt a deeper sense of desire from the Dark Lord than he had done before. He had felt something almost like real emotion from him, which had gone some way to break down the barriers of coldness and formality which usually dominated their encounters. Draco felt a thrill from the fact he had pleased his lover. Somehow it validated him, and beyond that, it turned him on. It was no bad thing. The experience was easier and easier the more he enjoyed it, after all. So, yes, if he had to be a whore he might as well be a good one._

 _Voldemort finished inside Draco with a deep groan and he gripped Draco's hips tightly for a few moments afterwards before pulling out and allowing Draco to dress again. The coldness, the impersonality, it was still there, but before Draco left via the portkey Voldemort took hold of his arm._

 _'You please me like this, Draco. Prepare yourself this way in future.' He commanded._

 _Draco smiled a coquettish smile._

 _'Yes, my Lord. Of course.'_

 _Draco's preparation ritual developed over time, becoming more complex and more important to him. He realised it was one small way in which he could have a voice, a way in which he could have a scrap of control over his encounters with Voldemort. Different scents made him feel different. Shaving made him feel aroused and usually lead to him pleasuring himself. He would touch himself all over, he would slip his fingers inside himself, preparing his body in every way possible. He took his time, was slow, leisurely and carful in all the ways Voldemort never was. He gave himself the foreplay that the Dark Lord never gave him. And somehow it felt good to touch himself before the Dark Lord touched him. It grounded him as his own. Both before and after a meeting with Voldemort, Draco would pleasure himself, establishing his own rights over his own body._

 _It wasn't simply a rebellious act. It became something which extended the sexual episode for Draco, making it more gratifying for him. 'Sex' no longer simply meant the time when Voldemort was fucking him, it included the time he prepared himself before hand and the time he spent washing himself afterwards. It was wrong, but it turned him on in a way that frightened him, to be used like a sex toy, to keep his body in perfect order simply so the Voldemort could fuck him on demand. He felt dreadful that he was turned on by his own enslavement, but who was to know? It made it feel better, it gave him comfort when nothing else was there to do so._

 _Draco often looked at himself naked. He had never done so in his life before this situation came about. He was very thin and very pale. He thought he looked somewhat dull, uninteresting and plain. He thought how boring such a plain, naked body must look and he began to experiment by wrapping a scarf around himself. Covering parts of him, leaving others exposed. He noticed how different it felt to be wearing something. It was sexier. He felt less vulnerable, less exposed, less honest. A simple piece of black lace wrapped around his waist, exposing his ass cheeks and the tip of his cock changed him from feeling like a sacrificial lamb to a willing, smouldering and happily obedient sex toy. Draco wondered if there was some way he could include the wearing of something into the sex he had with Voldemort._

 _It was another new low, but Draco tiptoed to his mothers room and went to her wardrobe. He would never take anything she had ever worn of course, that would have been too strange, but Narcissa was a woman who loved to shop. At least one of the wardrobes in her room was full of unworn clothes still with labels in, many still in bags. Predictably, these clothes included lingerie._

 _Draco discovered a tiny black dress, made from sheer lace. On him, it would be very short indeed. It would certainly not fully cover his ass. He removed the shop label and slipped it on. It looked worryingly good. It felt even better. It revealed everything, and helped him to feel in character as a whore. The hem of the dress sat about half way down his ass, the front didn't quite cover the tip of his dick. He looked debauched. He felt like a sexual deviant. He wondered if Voldemort would like it as much as he did?_

 _Voldemort was well pleased with him once again, and when Draco climbed up onto the bed still wearing the black lace dress, Voldemort did not insist he remove it. He simply pushed the lace hem up over Draco's hips to fully expose his ass. He pushed the strap down over Draco's shoulder when he wanted freer access to bite Draco's neck. Draco made a wonderful sex-doll._

 _Different clothes, Draco discovered made Voldemort behave in different ways, which increased Draco's feeling of control and allowed him a little more variety in their encounters. A black silk dressing gown worn onto the bed even prompted Voldemort to untie the sash and slip the garment off Draco's shoulders. Finally, the Dark Lord was undressing him! From that position, for the first time, Voldemort commanded Draco to lay on his back and he climbed on top of him and fucked him face to face. It opened the door to new positions over the following weeks._

 _Draco found that he often tried on several items of clothing before going to the Dark Lord as he wondered what he would like best and how he would respond to each one. Somehow, he really started to crave Voldemort's approval. Somehow it really started to matter. And in turn, he noticed that it really started to matter to Voldemort that Draco was being gratified by the encounters too. Getting Draco to climax became easier, but it also became more important. Draco suspected it was all to do with power, rather than affection, but there was no denying, the dynamic between them was starting to develop._

Back in his cell Draco continued to stare forward blankly. The sun had gone behind a cloud now and he could no longer watch the dancing dust. He swallowed hard, pushing down the tears and the deep aching sadness that was rising up inside him. His stomach churned nervously. What would the council ask him? Just how much did they want to know about him and the Dark Lord? Surely, they only needed the facts? Surely they didn't need the details?

There had been moments of real intimacy, even as early on as the second or third time. Moments of closeness between the Dark Lord and himself. Those moments were secret. They belonged to Draco alone, and he did not want to give them over to anyone.


	4. Chapter 4

It was little over an hour before Draco was collected from his cell once more. The council, shocked from his confessions, had discussed what they had heard, unanimously agreeing that the hearing needed to be less formal and intimidating for the boy, considering what he had been through. Kingsley had readied a small meeting room which housed the miniature council. They were seated around a table, Draco would sit amongst them, not isolated on his own.

'I'll sit by him.' Tonks offered. 'I'm his family.'

Kingsley nodded.

'I'll sit on the other side.' He affirmed. I don't want him to feel intimidated by me, it won't help.

'I will be asking the most questions.' Aarion pointed out. 'As you all tiptoe around the issues...' He added in a low voice. 'I should sit beside Draco, he'll be more inclined to trust me with answers.'

'As you will be asking the most questions, you would be best placed where you can clearly read his face, Aarion.' Kingsley said firmly. 'Opposite him. At a distance.'

Aarion accepted his orders somewhat reluctantly. He felt that the pretty young boy had already begun to trust him and that perhaps that trust would grow. Kingsley thought this could be the case too, and placed Aarion at a safe distance.

Draco was escorted into the room by his guards. He was seated and he had much the same look on his face as he had in the court. Nervous, tense but somehow resigned to whatever fate awaited him.

'Draco.' Kingsley said warmly. 'Thank you for returning.'

'I didn't have any other plans, to be honest, minister.' Draco replied dryly.

There was no wickedness in his voice, simply a dark humour and Kingsley smiled in spite of himself, whilst Fudge looked horrified and would have condemned the boy for his insolence alone!

'You told us before about the orders the Dark Lord gave to you when you offered to serve him. You confirmed that you accepted the task you were set.' Kingsley recapped.

Draco nodded, looking intensely at his clasped hands on the dark mahogany table.

'You obeyed him. What happened next?' Kingsley asked.

'I left.' Draco told him. 'I told you, I could come and go. I went to the manor and hid there. I went back to the Dark Lord the following Friday. It was the same. I did what I was told, and then I went home again.'

'Were you...' Aarion began, then paused. 'How did you feel, Draco?'

The council looked at him in shock. How did he imagine the boy felt? McGonagall gasped crossly to herself.

'I mean, were you alright?' Aarion rephrased.

Draco sighed, still looking down at his hands. At last he looked up at Aarion.

'I was fine.' He replied. 'I was **fine**. I think that was what frightened me the most. After the first time, I went home, and I was fine. That is to say, I was angry, miserable and alone in the world, but, had been all of those things before I went, before I slept with him. I was **no** different afterwards.'

Draco paused, and looked pained by his confession.

'I was just the same as I had been before. I **should** have been different, shouldn't I? I should have been destroyed by it. But I was **exactly** the same. I didn't feel any different, I didn't feel broken, or like I was worth less than I was before. I didn't feel like I wanted to die. I still wanted to live when I should have felt like my life was over. That's how you're supposed to feel isn't it?'

'No.' Aarion replied. 'You aren't supposed to...'

'If I were a good person, it would have ruined me, wouldn't it?' Draco spoke over him. 'But I must have been ruined already, or I wouldn't have gone to him, and I wouldn't have agreed to his terms. I just kept thinking that actually I was alright. He hadn't hurt me, and all I had to do was keep going back, every week, and doing the same thing. It was easy really. At least I didn't have to kill anyone.'

'No one is judging you, Draco.' Aarion said.

'Oh, but you are.' Draco said coldly. 'That's why you are here. To judge me. To decide on the extent of my crimes.'

'I think you judge yourself more harshly than any one of us judges you, Draco.' Kingsley interjected in his rich, warm voice. 'You were a frightened child and you chose a course of action whereby you were the only one in pain or danger, as you knew you could not inflict suffering on another.'

'You tell it very sweetly.' Draco said, looking directly at the minister. 'I hardly think becoming a willing, complacent whore has quite so much honour as you make out.'

'Nor perhaps does it have the shame that you attribute to it.' Kingsley replied. 'Would I choose to go and kill an innocent person or would I take the path whereby only I would suffer? That was the choice you made, Draco.'

'I didn't suffer too terribly in the beginning.' Draco spoke again, confession in his voice. 'Not in the way you might expect. It was only once in a whole 7 days that I had to go to him, and when I did, he kept his word, so long as I was willing. I wasn't even frightened after a month or so.'

 _'Sometimes, as I washed and prepared my body for him, I would think about what I should wear, what he might like...'_

The words sat in Draco's mouth, and he swallowed them down. They were his secret. One of the secrets he did not have to share.

'When I was less afraid, I think I pleased him more.' Draco managed. 'This may sound strange, but I think... I think he wanted to please me too, in some ways at least. He wanted me to want him.'

Draco was quiet for a moment. He both wanted to confess it and did not want to confess it at the same time.

'So I smiled. I was willing. I was appreciative. That's what courtesans do, after all.' Draco concluded.

This was enough.

'How long did this go on for, Draco?' Tonks asked in a concerned voice.

'6 months, at least.' Draco replied. '6 months, I came and went freely, returning to the manor and living there in secret.'

'6 months!' Yelled Fudge. '6 months, you were visiting the Dark Lord, you knew his whereabouts and you said nothing?'

The majority of the council looked at Fudge angrily. Miriam Merryweather gave him a look which could have turned milk sour.

'Yes, I said nothing.' Draco replied, a note of anger in his voice which seemed to be rising. 'For 6 months I said nothing, nothing at all, to anyone. For 6 damn months I didn't see another living soul. I didn't say a word to anyone, except him. And he wasn't one for conversation, if you know what I mean? 6 damn months and the only words I muttered were 'Like this, my Lord?' 'Yes my Lord' and 'Thank you, my Lord.'' Draco hissed. 'I said nothing. I spoke to no one. You all thought I was at risk of dying from cruelty? You were wrong. In those 6 months I was surprised I didn't die of loneliness!'

Draco's voice had risen to a pitch now, as if it were this which hurt him more than anything else. His isolation had been his torture, far more than any treatment from the Dark Lord.

'You poor boy!' Miriam exclaimed, her brow furrowed. 'How did you spend your time through the week, Draco? The loneliness must have been unbearable. You must have a strong mind to have coped with it at all.'

Draco looked at her. She was an intellectual looking woman, perhaps in her early 40's. Honey coloured hair, just starting to grey, was pulled into a thick, messy bun. Her clothes were smart but casual, colourful but muted. She was both pretty and approachable. Draco did not know her, but felt drawn to answer her calmly.

'I read a lot.' He replied, his voice relaxing again. 'I read every book in the library I think. Some more than once. I read text books at first.' He said, turning to McGonagall as though this information was for her. 'I wanted to try to keep up with what people would be learning at Hogwarts.'

He smiled sadly.

'It wasn't the same without a teacher though.' He confessed. 'So I just read everything. Even the Latin things. I didn't understand them at first, but I got better at it. Now I can read it as well as English, or at least I could last time I tried.' There was a tiny hint of pride in his voice.

Kingsley smiled at this little ray of hope that indicated that Draco was not entirely lost to the trauma of his ordeal.

'Reading kept my mind busy.' Draco concluded. 'But it didn't stop the loneliness. I wanted...'

He stopped suddenly, tears welling up in his eyes, but then he continued.

'I wanted **so** much to see another person. Anyone. I used to fantasise as I drifted off to sleep about all the people I had ever met, about everything I could say to them, everything I should have said to them. I just wanted company. Just wanted another person. And, well, I had one, didn't I? I had **him**.'

Miriam nodded.

'Stockholm syndrome...' She muttered.

'I read about that.' Draco informed her.

Kingsley recognised the term. Miriam had mentioned it before.

Miriam was a muggle-born. Her parents had been psychologists. Miriam's medical research and studies had been key in fusing muggle psychological practices with magical ones for the treatment of spell damage and trauma, up to and including the cruciatus curse.

'The co-dependency and relationship that develops between a captor and a captive.' Miriam clarified, for the less well read in the room.

Draco nodded.

'Although I wasn't his captive at that point.' He clarified. 'I was trapped, but by my own fear and shame. I could have left the manor and asked for help, but... well... I told you why I didn't. And the longer it went on, the worse I thought it would be for me if I did go for help.'

'If he had gone for help, he could have alerted us to the whereabouts of the Dark Lord!' Fudge exclaimed.

'I couldn't actually.' Draco retorted. 'I went by port-key, which was enchanted to allow only me to travel with it. I couldn't have told you his whereabouts, because, to this day, I have no idea where I was. I have no idea where that house is. I could have told you nothing.'

'Little Hangleton, A small town in the north of England.' Mad-Eye Moody said gruffly.

Draco nodded curtly at him, thanking him for this information although it was of no use to him. It was nice to finally know.

'You were beginning to feel a dependency on the Dark Lord, at this point, were you, Draco?' Miriam asked gently. 'Don't be afraid, it would only have been natural, and a **feeling** is not a crime.'

Draco smiled at her.

'He was the only person I saw. He didn't speak to me much, but it was better than nothing. And, well, it's not just talking you miss when you are completely alone, is it?' He said.

'You missed physical contact with others, too.' Miriam observed.

'I missed that as much as talking I think. And he did provide that for me. I missed being hugged by my parents, I missed play fighting with my friends. Affection, interaction... Normal stuff that you take for granted when you have it. It may surprise you all, but I was bought up to be very 'moral' about sexual conduct. I was meant to wait until I was married. I was bought up to think that promiscuity was a sign of weakness of character, but now I understand. It's loneliness that drives it. I was so lonely that in less than 6 months I had gone from dreading Fridays to longing for them.'

Draco looked afraid. Was this too much?

'In 6 months, he didn't once hurt you? Or threaten you?' Aarion asked.

'No.' Draco replied. 'I kept my side of the bargain and he kept his.'

'But I get the feeling that changed, did it?' Aarion prompted.

'Yes.' Draco replied. 'And I think it may have something to do with what you described...' He said, looking at Miriam. 'The co-dependency thing.'

'Can you tell me what you mean, Draco?' Miriam asked kindly.

'Well...' Draco thought carefully.

He wanted to be truthful, but also to keep back the most personal things. Some things didn't need to be out there in the daylight with everybody looking at them.

'I saw him, completely on my own. No one else was ever there. No one saw us together. At first, he was cold and formal with me, and I got the sense that he behaved like that with everyone... But as time went on, I think I saw a side of him that other people didn't see.'

His audience looked very interested.

'Go on...' Aarion prompted.

'For a start, I should tell you, it's only right to tell you, that not only did he not hurt me when we were together, but he actually wanted me to enjoy it. I don't know whether that was just some sort of power trip or something, but he really did want me to like what he did with me.'

No one quite wanted to ask the question, so Draco gritted his teeth and answered it anyway.

'He wasn't like you would imagine he would have been. He was surprisingly gentle at times, and once I got used to him and stopped being terrified, it wasn't unpleasant. And it was my job to keep him happy so I gave him all the encouragement that a good courtesan should. He wanted my consent, he had been clear on that from the start. Not only consent, he wanted me to be willing, to be keen. To want him.'

Draco paused, reading mixed emotions in the faces of his audience. Disgust from Fudge, pity from McGonagall, anger from Tonks, which he suspected was not directed at him. An inquisitiveness from Aarion DeLacy and an odd curiosity from Minister Shacklebolt.

'I suppose he knew he could have had me, or indeed anyone, against their will, but he got his fill of hurting people elsewhere. I considered myself lucky that I was no part of that. The dynamic between us changed with time. It couldn't not do. Even though we didn't speak to each other very much. Essentially, he was nice to me and I was nice to him. No one knew about it and he didn't want them to know. He told me to tell no one, remember? The details of what happened between us were private, and, well, they still are. None of the details concern anyone other than me, and I would prefer not to disclose any more about this aspect of what happened. If that is acceptable, Minister?'

Kingsley seemed to jar himself out of a sort of trance at Draco's question. Draco awaited an answer.

'The council understands the nature of the interactions between the Dark Lord and yourself, Draco. It is not necessary for you to recount and relive the details.'

Draco looked grateful.

'The council has no need to hear the filthy, sordid details!' Fudge exclaimed. 'Although, did you all note...' He continued, looking particularly at Aarion, 'that the boy has confessed that he actually **enjoyed** the Dark Lord's attentions? He is not so much the poor innocent victim as we were led to believe, I think!'

'It's more complicated than that, as I'm sure you understand!' Miriam spoke up crossly. 'It's the nature of Stockholm Syndrome. When two people are trapped in a situation together, a bond almost invariably forms between them. When two people are isolated from the rest of the world together some kind of allegiance is bound to form...'

'Allegiance!' Fudge yelled.

Miriam shot him a look that silenced him.

'Draco was trapped initially by fear of the Dark Lord, and subsequently of fear of what would happen if he went to the ministry for help. I think the Dark Lord was trapped by his own standing and his reputation. He could not seduce a lover and could not stand to have anyone know of his needs and desires. Once he had been with Draco, he ran a risk because Draco had seen a side of him that he wanted to hide.'

Draco nodded.

'He knew I couldn't tell anyone, and he didn't want me to. I knew he wouldn't tell anyone, and I didn't want him to. It was a shared secret and it did come with a sort of 'closeness' I suppose.' He said.

Miriam nodded.

'He had power over you in the first instance, you were in a hostage type situation. But the two of you were thrown together, trapped, and within that situation a bond of camaraderie develops. A sense of unity. A hostage can come to side with their captor...'

'Side with him! I knew it. They worked together. Veritaserum will get the truth from him!' Fudge snorted triumphantly.

'I didn't work with him.' Draco said, passionately. 'I didn't work with anyone. He never told me anything of his plans, he didn't talk to me about anything other than what happened between us. You'll hear no different from me under veritaserum either, except you'll render me powerless to hold back every single moment that happened between me and him. Do it! If that's what you're going to do, then just do it! Use a potion to rape every last secret and private moment out of me. Do it, but know that it will be worse than anything that the Dark Lord ever did to me.'

'Veritaserum will **not** be necessary.' Kingsley said firmly, aiming his comment at Fudge, who looked cross at being admonished, but remained silent.

'Draco, you said things changed after 6 months.' Miriam continued. 'What happened?'

'It was one night, it was 6, perhaps 7 months after it began. I went to him via the port-key, but he wasn't there.'

Draco remembered the plethora of emotions he had felt. Disappointment, distress, fear, anger and fear all over again. He decided not to share these feelings.

'I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I should go back home, if he didn't want me that evening. Or if I should wait for him, because he could be angry if I wasn't there and say I had failed to come to meet with him. In the end, I decided to wait. I thought that would be the safest thing to do.'

Draco paused, thinking back.

'I didn't know if other people came to the house. I was afraid someone else might come and find me there, but I was fairly confident that no one other than the Dark Lord would go to the bedroom, so I went there and waited. I waited, but he was gone a really long time. It got late and I fell asleep.'

 _Draco had slept soundly, slept deeply, laid out on Voldemort's bed. He slept so soundly and deeply and he never saw Voldemort's face when he returned and found him laying there. Voldemort stared at him, stared intently, curiously, like you might stare at a strange animal, or a new pet you were not quite sure how to take care of. He peered closely at Draco and he noticed every detail. He noticed how different the boy looked when he was sleeping to when he was awake. Relaxed, peaceful, no stress or pain in his face. No angst or anxiousness. Voldemort wondered what it would take to make him look that way when he was awake. He stared at him for a very long time. Draco never knew how long Voldemort looked at him, watched him sleeping and didn't touch him for fear of disturbing him. By the time Draco awoke, he had moved as he slept, so he had no way of knowing, that very night, Voldemort had gently covered him with a blanket in case he was cold and then spent the night in a chair beside the bed so as not to trouble him._

'When I woke up, it was getting light.' Draco continued. 'He was back and was standing by the window. I apologised for sleeping, but he said he didn't mind. Then he came to the bed...'

Draco paused awkwardly.

'Later that morning, afterwards, I started getting ready to go home and he told me I should stay longer. He said he thought it better if I stayed there for perhaps a couple of nights at a time, to save using the port-key so frequently in case it was detected. I confess, I was glad to stay. A couple of nights at a time would be fine for me. I would have less time alone that way. Even though he didn't spend time with me in any real way, at least there was someone else in the house. At the manor, I was the only one there, that huge house all to myself, it was, well, scary sometimes. At his house, I waited upstairs for him while he did whatever it was that he did, and he came to me when he wanted to. I stayed 3 nights and then returned home. It was better than just visiting for a few hours and leaving again afterwards.' Draco mused.

'Did it change the dynamic between you?' Miriam asked.

'Yes.' Draco replied. 'Simple things like, he actually had to talk to me a little more. I remember asking him where the bathroom was, and if I could have some water to drink. We seemed to stumble blindly towards an awkward functionality. He just seemed to have no idea what to do with me, but wanted to keep me there as long as possible. I almost starved the first time because he didn't offer me any food and thought I had been brave enough with the questions I had already asked. I was dizzy and faint and he asked what was wrong. I told him I needed something to eat and it seemed like he actually hadn't realised that I would need food. He did get me some food, by the way. I had wondered if he was withholding it to keep me too weak to run away... But I think he knew by that point I wouldn't run away.'

Draco paused and thought again.

'We had to talk more, but only about practical things. Did I need food? Did I need water, sleep, warmth? He would check and ask me once he realised I needed stuff. One time, when I was going home, he even asked if I had enough food at the manor. I did of course, but he wanted to check. Things really were better like this, but I noticed changes in him which worried me too.'

'What changes, Draco?' Kingsley asked gently.

'He seemed to get more possessive of me, which was strange as he already owned me completely. He wanted me to go home less and less. He told me he wanted me there all the time. He told me he needed me and it must have been about 4 months ago he told me it would be better if I were to stay at his house all the time. He could look after me, that was what he said. I thought it was a strange way to put it. It was overbearing and a bit scary.

He took my wand away from me too, that night. I kept it in the pocket of my jacket and I guess he had never really considered that I might use it to disobey him. But that night he must have felt afraid that I might try to run away. I suppose I looked upset when he said I couldn't leave. The next day when I went to find my wand, it was gone. I never saw it again.

Since then, I have not been home. I haven't seen the manor, any of my possessions or any of the things there that reminded me of my parents while they were locked up in Azkaban. I stayed with him, in his house. I suppose I really was a captive by this point. I did ask once, about a month ago, if I could please go home for a day to get some clothes, some of my things. He said no. He needed me there, with him. I asked if he would come with me while I went, no one would have seen him after all. But he refused me. He didn't get angry and he didn't give a reason, but he ended the conversation and I didn't ask again.' Draco smiled a sad and wistful smile. 'I really would love to go and see my home again someday, and maybe get some of my things.'

There was an awkward silence in the room. Kingsley looked at Moody, who looked at McGonagall who looked accusingly at Fudge, who looked at Aarion, who in turn looked at Kingsley. Draco was alert enough to notice something was wrong.

'What?' He asked nervously. Had he said something he shouldn't? Was there something he didn't know?

'Draco...' Kingsley began. 'I'm afraid that Malfoy manor, your home, was destroyed, about 2 months ago.'

Draco sat in stunned silence.

'It was a decision made by the ministry.' Kingsley confessed, trying to hide the shame in his voice. 'The land was to be reclaimed and used to build a small magical community town.'

'But... But... How could that happen?' Draco managed, pale and shaking slightly. 'The house had an owner! How could that happen?'

'No one had seen you for so long. You were pronounced dead.' Kingsley tried to explain. ' The ministry took possession of the house. I'm so very sorry Draco.'

'And I suppose my parents lost their ownership rights due to the severity of their convictions?' Draco mused in stunned, saddened shock. 'My father was obsessed with that house, you know. He'd be devastated to think of it being knocked down...'

Draco's words were met with another, even more chilling silence.

'My parents do know, don't they?' He asked anxiously. Why was everyone so quiet?

It was Tonks who spoke now. She reached out and took hold of Draco's pale, cold hand and squeezed it tightly. Draco's heart almost stopped beating, for he knew what she was going to say almost before she said it, but still the words hit him like a wall of ice.

'Draco...' She almost whispered. 'Draco. Your parents are dead.'


	5. Chapter 5

Draco felt like he had fallen through a hole in the fabric of reality. Afterwards he looked back and reflected that he seemed to lose a whole chunk of time. Numb with shock, shaken with grief, he couldn't take in any more.

'I... I'd like to stop now. Please.' Draco whispered.

'Of course, Draco. Of course we can stop.' Kingsley pronounced at once. 'Miriam, please take Draco back to his room and give him any support you can.' He commanded.

Miriam nodded and stood up with Draco's guards. Draco rose also, in a sort of daze, realising he hadn't even asked how his parents had died, but he was too numb to form the words to ask the question, yet alone take in the answer.

Kingsley stood up and hurried to the door and opened it for them.

'I'm so very sorry Draco.' He said gently.

Draco managed to nod in recognition of his words.

Once Draco and his guards had left the room and Kingsley had shut the door again, he sighed deeply and uttered a swear word, which was extremely out of character. He returned to his seat and sat down heavily.

'Should I go with him?' Tonks asked.

Kingsley shook his head.

'No. Miriam will give him a potion for shock. It may make him sleep. I don't think it will do him any hard if it does. That poor boy! We should have known! We should have known the news wouldn't have reached him! He told us he'd seen and spoken to no one. We should have realised.' Kingsley berated himself out loud.

'I thought the Dark Lord might have told him.' Aarion mused. 'I could see it fitting with his plan to make Draco feel dependant on him. You know, if Draco had no parents and no home, well, it would have increased the Dark Lords power over him, wouldn't it?'

'As logical as that would sound...' Interjected McGonagall. 'He **didn't** tell him, and now he's had to find out like that! That poor young man just found out he has nothing at all left of the life he once knew, and still, still we insist on trying him like a criminal!' She exclaimed.

Kingsley nodded gravely.

'I would propose that he transfer him to a secure ward at St Mungos tomorrow, if he's well enough to go. I would like to hear the end of his tale, how much he knew about what was happening in the outside world, if anything. What was said to him before the Dark Lord warded him up in that room. Then we move him.'

'I think St Mungos would be far more fitting!' McGonagall affirmed. 'Miriam will be able to help him come to terms with his losses and maybe help him recover from the trauma of his experience.'

'Miriam's a healer, not a miracle worker.' Moody spoke up from his silent contemplation. 'I saw the look on his face when we first found him. I don't think there's a potion for that.'

'The key point we need to remember is, nothing he's told us indicates any type of criminal activity on his part.' Aarion affirmed. 'He's been telling the truth the whole time. It would be good just to hear the end of the story, for completion, but I can see nothing we could convict him on even if we wanted to. Not "withholding of information", he didn't have any information. Not "conspiring against the ministry", he wasn't conspiring. The only possible charge could be "failing to come to the authorities with information about a wanted wizard", but given that he was 15, frightened and vulnerable, I can't see a jury in the land who would hold with that charge. Nor should they.' Aarion concluded.

Kingsley nodded and stood up. It was time to put some wheels in motion.

'We meet again tomorrow at 10.' He said firmly. 'Once we have the end of the story, Draco Malfoy will be transferred to the hospital assuming his innocence is confirmed.'

Draco was escorted back to his cell and Miriam and he sat together for a short time. With a couple of straightforward questions, which Draco answered honestly, Miriam was able to discern the most appropriate potions to help him through the initial trauma. She had to go to St Mungos to collect them, but assured Draco she would return as quickly as she could.

Draco was actually glad of the time alone. Physically and mentally, he was in shock. Adrenalin pumped through his body. He felt sick and as though he were falling from a great height.

It didn't make sense. It couldn't be true. He would never see his home or his parents ever again. They had been the only rays of hope which he had clung to over the last few months, and now they were gone. Where would he go now, if he were spared Azkaban? Who would forgive him, who in the world would want to know him? He couldn't imagine anyone would. There was nothing left for him in the world. Perhaps it would be best just to be given to the Dementors?

How had it happened? He hadn't even asked! His parents had been locked up in Azkaban, they should have been safe there. What had happened? All sorts of horrible ideas flashed through Draco's mind.

When had it happened? He would need to know the date of the event. He would need to know, because if he walked free, he would need to know which day of the year it was that he had to remember them on. Which would be the one day of the year when the pain of losing them had to feel even greater than on all of the other days?

Draco sat with his head in his hands. All of a sudden it was as if he remembered a vivid dream. He knew which day it had happened on. It had been the night of the Blood Moon...

 _Draco had been at the Riddle House for 3 nights in a row and he was more than ready to go home. It would be nice to have a few days to himself, read a little bit, have a proper bath. There was a bathroom he used at the Riddle House, but it was no substitute for his own at the Manor. Some clean clothes would be nice too and maybe something new from his mothers room for when he returned...?_

 _Voldemort had been gone for some time and it was dark outside. Draco quietly resigned himself to the fact that h would not be leaving tonight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he told himself._

 _But no matter how he tried to reassure himself and to keep himself feeling positive, which was not easy anyway in his circumstances, he could not shake the feeling that something, somewhere was very wrong. Anxiously, he wondered over to the filthy window and wiped away some of the grime and peered out into the night._

 _The sky was black, but hanging in the darkness, casting a grim, eerie light over the earth below, was a huge blood red moon. Draco felt a chill sweep over him and he shuddered. He remembered reading about blood moons in a book on astronomy. He had dismissed the believe that they were a tiding of dark happenings and put it down to foolish superstitions. However, faced with the sight before him he could not deny it felt very ominous and troubling. Something, somewhere was not right._

 _It occurred to Draco that maybe the Dark Lord had been defeated that night and that maybe he would be rescued? It also occurred to him that the blood moon could be a sign that Voldemort had come to power that night. Would he still bother to come back for his little catamite if that were the case...? Somehow neither scenario was quite fitting, but Draco knew, knew right in the very essence of his being, that something had happened tonight. Something was wrong._

 _Suddenly he felt frightened, as though his hideous moon might be able to see him peering up at it and would cast it's misfortune directly onto him. He hurried away from the window and climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers around him, hiding himself._

 _Draco drifted in and out of restless sleep until, hours later, he heard noises downstairs in the old house. There were people talking. He couldn't hear words and the conversations were brief. It wasn't long before he heard Voldemort's familiar steps approaching the door of the bedroom._

 _Draco jumped up from the bed in much the same frightened way he had done when Moody discovered him. Voldemort stepped into the room, shutting the door and locking it. He seemed to be hurrying, and Draco had never seen him lock the door before. He had never thought it necessary._

 _Had Draco been a more confident person he would have asked outright 'What's wrong?' but he didn't quite dare speak to the Dark Lord that way. But something was wrong though, he could tell. Voldemort's expression seemed almost to mirror his own, a kind of unexplained fear, confusion and uncertainty. They stared at each other through the gloom, both breathing heavily, both alert and troubled. Neither speaking._

 _Then Voldemort extended his hand, beckoning Draco to him. Draco responded quickly, rather more quickly than usual in fact. He ran to Voldemort._

 _If this were not strange enough in itself, Voldemort responded by pulling Draco into a tight embrace, a possessive and protective hug and he held him firmly for what seemed like a long time. Draco could hear his heart beating. He had never noticed that before. If he thought about it, he probably hadn't realised the Dark Lord had a heart, but clearly he did. Draco could hear it, and it was racing._

 _Still neither of them spoke and it was several long minutes before Voldemort eventually loosened his grip on Draco, relaxing a little and making it easier for Draco to breathe! Then he led him to the bed._

 _He fucked Draco face to face. Generally Draco preferred this. Draco tried his best to hide preferences and tried to show the same enthusiastic response to whatever Voldemort did. But Voldemort was not easy to fool. He knew what Draco liked best. He liked being whispered to, he liked being fucked on his back, he liked being kissed. He liked being undressed and he liked being petted rather like a spoilt little lapdog. Voldemort didn't indulge this too often, only occasionally, although it sometimes crossed his mind that when he came to power he could furnish his well trained sex pet with far more comfortable living conditions. House him somewhere secure and safe, somewhere were Draco could concentrate all his energies on being well groomed and ready to be fucked on demand. Draco would like that, Voldemort thought, Draco behaved well and was pleasing. One day, things could be a little nicer for the boy._

 _It was only after the sex that Voldemort finally spoke._

 _'You will stay here with me all the time, from now on, Draco. It will be safer for you.'_

 _Draco, although he was drowsy and worn out, must have looked shocked, alert and troubled by this statement, for Voldemort continued._

 _'You_ _ **want**_ _to stay with me, Draco. You_ _ **do**_ _want to. You will be safe that way. I will see to that. I will make sure you are protected. I'll look after you.'_

 _He spoke firmly, letting Draco know the conversation was over._

 _'Yes, my Lord.' Draco whispered in reply feeling terrified and sad, but puzzled too. Why did Voldemort suddenly feel that he needed to keep him safe? Something had happened that night, something had changed which meant Voldemort no longer considered it safe for Draco to go home._

 _Draco had no idea what it was at the time, but sitting alone in his ministry cell, the pieces suddenly fell into place. That was the night his parents were killed._

Kingsley Shacklebolt waited until late that evening to wonder down to the holding cells in the ministry prison. It was long after the time he would usually have gone home, and it was unusual for the minister himself to visit this part of the ministry complex. The guards straightened up and looked extra alert when they saw him coming.

He was glad to see that Draco had been house in one of the nicer cells, as nice as a cell can be, at least. It had a window and therefore had natural light. It was larger than some, and he was also pleased to see that decent blankets and pillows had been bought in for the current guest.

Draco sat on the bed, staring forward into the middle distance, his knees drawn up, his hands clasped. He still wore the black velvet robes, he had no others. He had no shoes on and Kingsley wondered if this was because he had taken them off or because he actually didn't have any at all.

Kingsley could see Draco clearly through the bars, but out of politeness and respect, knocked on the wall in the absence of a proper door.

Draco started out of his trance and looked round to see who was there.

'Hello Draco.' Kingsley said in a soft voice.

'Minister Shacklebolt.' Draco said, acknowledging him.

'May I come in?' Kingsley asked.

Draco stood up.

'Yes. Certainly, minister.' He replied. 'Although, forgive me, you'll have to let yourself in, I seem to have misplaced the key.'

Kingsley opened the door and shut it behind him with a smile on his face.

'You have a sharp sense of humour, don't you?' He said.

'Do I?' Draco asked. 'I think too much time alone has warped my perception of what's funny.'

'I think you're very witty, especially considering what you've been through and what happened today.' Kingsley said.

'Hummmm...' Was all the reply that Draco could manage.

'I have a team of litigators looking at arranging a financial settlement for you for a percentage of the value of the manor.' Kingsley told him. 'Aarion is leading them. He's a very experienced legal man and he seems to be very much on your side, Draco.'

'Thank you.' Draco answered. He thought for a moment and then added. 'They'll have to be very good lawyers to do that. That's quite a legal loop hole, a payment to an heir, back from the dead after property has been sold off or claimed.'

Kingsley raised his eyebrows.

'You have a good understanding of law, don't you?' He commented.

'I read every book in the manor library, remember.' Draco answered.

Kingsley was impressed.

'You'll have plenty of options for employment once you're free then, won't you? All that knowledge you have!' He smiled.

Draco laughed sarcastically.

'I doubt it!' He scoffed. 'Homeless, penniless orphaned son of a death eater. I didn't even finish school. I have no qualifications, not even my OWLs.' He pointed out. 'I don't think people will be falling over themselves to offer me work, do you? Especially not with my family name and reputation.'

Kingsley sighed and looked thoughtful. Draco was probably right, at least about some of it.

'You might find people are more forgiving that you give them credit for, Draco. Besides, you could still do your exams if you wanted to you know.' He pointed out.

'I won't be able to afford it.' Draco said. 'I'll have to work, I have no way to support myself to study. No one will want to give me a job, but it won't matter. I know I'm pretty good at **some** things people will pay good money for.' He said darkly.

'No, Draco.' Kingsley said firmly.

'Oh but I **am** good at it, minister!' Draco said with a wicked smile which turned into a look of pure jaded hurt as self destructive thoughts shrouded his mind.

Kingsley walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

'I want better than that for you.' He told him.

Draco gave a dejected little laugh and went and sat on the bed.

Kingsley paused for a moment before approaching.

'May I?' he asked.

When Draco nodded, he sat beside him.

'Can I ask you about my parents?' Draco said at last.

'Of course you can.' Kingsley replied.

'They died on the night of the blood moon, didn't they? That night when the moon was a deep, deep red colour?' Draco asked.

'Yes.' Kingsley said, surprised. 'Yes, how did you know?'

'It was just a feeling.' Draco replied. 'I could just feel something was wrong that night.' He sighed. 'How did it happen?'

'There was a break out from Azkaban.' Kingsley told him. 'Several prisoners were killed, some were kissed by the Dementors...'

'Not my parents!' Draco interrupted, flinching with worry.

Kingsley gently took hold of his thin hands. He was very cold to touch.

'No.' He said softly. 'No, your parents weren't kissed by the Dementors. Their deaths were in combat, and both were quick and painless. I know that may not be of much comfort to you...'

'It is actually.' Draco said. 'I didn't want it to be slow. They'd suffered enough already.'

Draco spoke slowly and sounded both hurt and drowsy.

'Did Miriam give you something to help you sleep tonight?' Kingsley asked.

'Yes.' Draco replied. 'She talked to me for a long time too... She's very kind.'

'She's the best healer I know,' Kingsley told him, still holding his hands, stroking the back of one now in a soothing, caring way. 'I hope to transfer you to the hospital where she can look after you more closely. Do you want to sleep now Draco? I don't want to keep you awake if you're tired.'

'I'm ok.' Draco said sleepily. 'It hasn't kicked in yet...'

Kingsley smiled, getting the feeling that Draco actually just wanted company. Someone to talk to.

'Do you like reading Draco?' He asked. 'I could bring you some new books to read if you like.'

'I would like that.' Draco said happily, sounding more and more spaced out.

Kingsley looked about the cell, it was very bare. He could bring other things for Draco too, but hopefully he would move to the hospital where the rooms were nicer anyway.

Draco yawned and pulled his feet up onto the bed. He leant against Kingsley, who supported his weight.

'You **are** sleepy, Draco.' he smiled. 'What did Miriam give you?'

'Dreamless Sleep, cut with a regular sleeping draft, and a dash of... Elixir of Euphoria.' He yawned with a smile, snuggling up to the ministers side.

Kingsley shook his head with a smile. It was an unorthodox mix, but Miriam knew her stuff and it would give Draco some respite from his grief and anguish. It would also make him pretty out of it for the next 10 hours or so!

'Well I think I should leave you to get some sleep then, shouldn't I?' Kingsley offered.

'No... Stay.' Draco uttered, his eyes closing. 'Until I'm asleep.'

The minister smiled kindly. The potions were well and truly kicking in now. Draco was bordering on delirious. He cuddled up to Kingsley. It was unlikely he would remember it in the morning.

'I'll stay until you fall asleep.' Kingsley replied gently.

He glanced down at Draco, who was nuzzled up against him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. He was sound asleep already. Miriam knew her potions alright!

Carefully, he disentangled himself from Draco and lifted him further onto the bed. He covered the sleeping boy with a thick blanket and let himself out of the cell, securing the door and leaving Draco to a night of calm, restful and happy sleep. _'Merlin knows, the poor boy deserves it!_ ' He thought to himself as he left the ministry to return home.

The following morning Kingsley was late arriving to the final meeting of the council. He met with Draco and his guards on the way to the chamber.

'Mr Malfoy.' He hailed him and caught up with the group. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Yes, thank you minister.' Draco replied.

'Do you remember speaking with me last night?' Kingsley asked.

Draco looked puzzled.

'I... I'm not sure... You mean, in my cell?' He asked.

'I came to see you, but you had taken Healer Merryweather's potion. You were very drowsy. You fell asleep.'

'Did I?' Draco gasped. 'While you were talking to me? I'm very sorry minister!'

They arrived at the meeting room and went inside. The rest of the council were already seated but Kingsley continued their conversation.

'Not to worry Draco. I should have known you'd be tired.' He smiled.

'I do remember now, actually.' Draco said thinking back. 'You told me about my parents, but I don't remember much after that I'm afraid.' He confessed.

'It's quite alright. We can talk again some other time when you are less tired.' Kingsley offered.

They were seated and Draco looked then at Aarion.

'Thank you, Mr DeLacy, for the chocolates you sent to me this morning. It was very thoughtful. And what you said in the note was right, it's been a very long time since I had anything like that to eat.'

Aarion looked a little embarrassed.

'A pleasure Draco.' He said awkwardly.

Kingsley shot Aarion a scornful look.

'Shall we begin the final hearing of this 'unbiased' council?' Fudge said sarcastically and Moody coughed loudly.

'Yes, certainly.' Kingsley asserted himself. 'Draco, Yesterday you described how the Dark Lord's behaviour changed towards you over time. You talked about him asking you to stay with him, and eventually preventing you from leaving at all.'

'Yes.' Draco replied. 'And for what it's worth, I now know the night my parents were killed was the night he told me I should stay with him all the time. Told me he would look after me. I also now understand why he wouldn't let me leave to go and collect my things a month ago. The house had been destroyed by then. He didn't tell me, about my parents, or about the house. I don't know why.'

Draco looked a little mournful. Healer Merryweather gave him a concerned smile. She understood. She could see Draco's angst. The Dark Lord had tried to protect him from the pain of his losses by concealing them, and had offered to protect Draco once his parents were gone. Draco hadn't understood at the time. He had assumed these actions were merely ways of exerting power over him. Now he understood that a true tenderness had lain behind them. This was the side of himself the Dark Lord could never express and wanted no one to know about. It was a lot for Draco to have to process.

'We need to know what happened once you were not allowed to leave and how you came to be locked in the room where you were found.' Kingsley said calmly.

Draco thought for a moment before he answered.

'I don't know that there's a great deal to tell now.' Draco answered. 'He knew I was upset when he said I couldn't go home to collect things, although I tried not to show it. I always thought it would be ill advised to show any unhappiness, to be honest. But I'd been getting so lonely and so... well, **bored** with nothing to do while he left me alone. I thought I'd go crazy, I used to try so hard to keep my mind focused on things, but it was impossible. In the end he asked me outright what was wrong and I had to tell him that I hated being left alone for hours and hours because I was bored and lonely. I'll confess, I told him I missed him when he was away. In fact, I'll confess I **did** miss him. He still didn't talk to me all that much, but he was affectionate in his way. And he was concerned when I said I was bored...'

Draco glanced at Fudge. It was Fudge after all who would hang him over any sign that he had even a moment of anything less than hatred for the Dark Lord. Fudge however was betraying no emotion or particular scorn at this precise moment, so Draco continued.

'He was pleased I think, that I missed him. He seemed to spend more time with me after that and when he was going to be away for a long time... well...' Draco paused and glanced at Miriam. 'I told Healer Merryweather last night. When he was going to leave me alone for a long time he would give me potions, illegal ones. Ones that made me high and so spaced out I didn't know how long I'd been alone for. He said that way I wouldn't be lonely.' Draco said sadly.

'Draco told me this last night.' Miriam confessed. 'Which was the reason for the unusual and rather strong mix of potions I administered to him. I think this alone is reason enough to warrant his transfer to St Mungos, minister. Draco puts a brave face on it, but he is addled by potion addiction and needs time to be weaned off them. I would like you to transfer him to my care as soon as possible.'

The council looked shocked all over again at this latest revelation. The Dark Lord had pushed illegal and highly addictive potions onto the boy, simply to prevent him being bored and lonely. It was the same kind of logic, Draco reflected later, as keeping him prisoner to prevent him being unhappy about the loss of him home.

'That shouldn't be a problem, Healer Merryweather.' Kingsley replied, glancing at Draco with growing concern.

'I'm alright.' Draco said, looking directly at him.

'The euphoria potion I gave him last night will tide him over until at least this evening. But you're a way off 'alright' just yet, Draco.' Miriam said firmly.

Draco didn't argue. She was correct.

'So that's about all I can tell you really.' Draco concluded. 'When he was going to be away he gave me drugs, often they hadn't quite worn off when he returned. There are some encounters I have only hazy memories of, some days I lost altogether. But you want to know about the last day, don't you?'

'Can you tell us anything about it, Draco?' Aarion asked.

'I can.' Draco replied clearly. 'I knew, somehow I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea what. He had been away from me for a while and I was coming down from a potions trip when he returned. He took me to bed and, potions aside, it was different to how it had ever been before. Not in dramatic ways, but enough for me to notice. He was more affectionate, but griped me harder than usual. He was possessive, even more than was normal for him. Afterwards... afterwards he, he held me. We often lay together, it wasn't unusual for him to want that, but he held onto me like a comfort blanket. I could feel that he was scared.'

Draco spoke slowly, looking at the table intensely as he had taken to doing when it was hard to speak the words.

'I fell asleep eventually.' Draco continued. 'When I woke up, he was preparing to leave. I asked where he was going. I always asked that. He told me to mind my own business, just like he always did. He always told me the same answer when I asked him anything really. _'Mind your own business, my little whore. If I want you to know something I'll tell you.'_ Then he would laugh and kiss me. He gave me a potion which hit me almost instantly. I swooned back onto the bed. He kissed me again. he told me, _'Wait for me Draco. I'll come back for you.'_ I remember I sort of laughed and I hugged him, told him not to go. He promised again that he would come back. Then he left. He warded the room, He always did that. I think I blacked out after that. I remember some hazy, troubled noises, I could have been dreaming, I don't know, I was so out of my mind. The next thing I remember was when Auror Moody came into the room with his wand raised. I didn't know who he was, and I was still pretty spaced out. I can't tell you anything else, I'm sorry.'

The council sat in silence as Draco finished speaking.

'Thank you for telling us this Draco. You've been very brave.' Aarion said gently.

'Well, you've heard it all now.' Draco said, a wave of anger and angst crashing over him as the potion began to wear off. 'I'm a cowardly, depraved junkie whore and you can punish me accordingly.'

Fudge cleared his throat and spoke.

'Minister Shacklebolt, members of the council. I move that Draco Malfoy be immediately transferred to St Mungos hospital under the care of Miriam Merryweather. I further propose that he be cleared of any changed of suspected death eater activity or allegiances. Draco Malfoy had described no criminal activity on his part. The only things of which he could be considered guilty are being foolish and naive. And for these things he has paid a higher price than any punishment we would dish out. He lost a year of his life to enslavement at the pleasure of the Dark Lord, lost his home and family. I motion to drop the charges.'

'Those in favour.' Kingsley said, raising his hand already.

With the exception of the accused, there was not one person in the room who did not raise their hand, including Draco's guards who were not entitled to vote.

'Cleared of all charges.' Kingsley said confidently. 'You are free to leave the ministry custody, Draco. However, in light of your physical condition, I must insist that you are admitted as an in-patient to St Mungos until such time as healer Merryweather thinks you are well enough to leave.'

Draco nodded.

'I'll be grateful to go there.' He said weakly, sounding more affected by his ordeal now that it was over than he had done while it occurred. 'I, I have nowhere else to go anyway.'

Kingsley gave him a sympathetic look.

'By the time your treatment is complete we may have arranged a financial settlement for you with any luck.' He offered.

'Yes.' Aarion exclaimed. 'I will continue to work on it Draco, and I'll come and visit you and tell you what progress is being made.' He flashed Draco his handsome and charming smile.

Kingsley suppressed a scowl.

'Thank you.' Draco said sounding grateful, but also weak. He glanced at Miriam.

She nodded.

'He needs to rest a little before we go to the hospital.' She told Kingsley.

Kingsley nodded understandingly.

'Go, rest, Draco. Take as long as you need.' He told him.

Draco left the room with his guards and with healer Merryweather, although the guards were no longer needed for escort, they would give him admittance to the cell where he could rest a while before departing.

Back in the meeting room, the council had time to reflect on what they had heard.

'The poor kid!' Tonks exclaimed once he had left the room. 'What will become of him, do you think?'

It was an open question to the room.

'He's stronger than I gave him credit for.' Said Moody gruffly. 'Makes sense, half of the fear on his face when I found him was because of the potions he'd been given. I was afraid he'd lost his mind, but it all falls into place now. I think he'll be alright, you know, Tonks.'

'He's a survivor. Adaptable. It's one of the strongest traits of Slytherin house. Determination. Survival instinct.' Remus added.

'I reckon that's how he got through that last year, poor kid. Did what he needed to, to survive.' Moody said.

Remus nodded grimly.

'But what will happen to him now, minister?' McGonagall spoke up. 'Other than going to the hospital of course, which I agree is the very best place for him right now. What will happen after that? It will be headline news, surely? The heir to the Malfoy estate returns after a year of being presumed dead. The papers will be all over it. They'll want to know where he has been! And what he's been doing.' She pointed out.

'No!' Said Tonks. 'That's not fair! We can't tell them all that. He's gonna have it hard enough because of his family name. He has no home and no money. If people found out he was...' She stopped. 'He'd have no chance at all.'

'Draco Malfoy was kept prisoner by the Dark Lord.' Fudge said decidedly. 'He was a victim, just like any other prisoner the Dark Lord kept. He is in St Mungos receiving treatment. That will be all that needs to be said.'

'An injunction to prevent the press from hounding him might be prudent.' Aarion suggested. 'I would be happy to arrange it and to let him know...'

'We don't want to be seen to be showing favour.' Fudge said firmly. 'Legal protection while he is in hospital would be standard but beyond that it would be improper for us to interfere. You would do well to remember that.' He directed his comment at Aarion but glanced at Kingsley also.

'If we are talking about impropriety, I don't think minister Shacklebolt visiting him when he was alone in his cell and under the influence of potions is entirely in line with procedure!' Aarion snapped defensively.

'What exactly are you implying, De Lacey?' Kingsley asked, confrontationally.

'I simply meant, we were part way through a trial and speaking one-to-one with a suspect is highly out of the ordinary. What did you think I meant, Minister?' Aarion replied equally confrontationally.

'We were clear by that point that Draco was no death eater! As he had learnt that the ministry had destroyed his home, I thought it prudent to reassure him that provisions would be made for him. I hardly think that's inappropriate. Inappropriate would be something like member of a jury sending gifts to a suspect in a cell...' Kingsley replied crossly.

Tonks and McGonagall were looking at each other, aghast throughout this bizarre exchange.

'I think someone should go and prepare a press statement.' Tonks said assertively. 'Remus, I wonder if we should go home and clear out the spare room? When Draco comes out of hospital he might need somewhere to stay. I am his only family now, after all.'

Remus nodded.

'Yes, that's a good idea.' He agreed.

'He might not want to.' Tonks mused. 'But I'd like to be able to offer.' She smiled.

And so Fudge prepared a press statement, Moody continued to sit in subsequent death eater trials. McGonagall returned to Hogwarts. Kingsley further over saw the rounding up of death eaters and was secretly pleased when a complex bunch were found hiding in Albania. He then had good cause to send a team of experience aurors and interrogation specialists, including Aarion De Lacey, over to Albania to try them there and then.

Draco was taken to St Mungos shortly after the trial. Tonks, McGonagall and the two rivals all paid a visit to his cell to speak with him, but found that Miriam had been quick to move him. The potions wearing off rather quicker than she had hoped and she wanted to move him before anyone came to visit him. Draco had been through enough and didn't need anything to confuse him any further!


	6. Chapter 6

Draco sat in a wicker chair by the window of his room in St Mungos. He had been in hospital about a month receiving treatment for psychological trauma, malnutrition and one or two physical injuries that he had previously been unaware of. Bruises, and 3 broken toes, presumably sustained whist under the influence of potions. He had been treated with spells, potions and had also received what Healer Merryweather had called 'talking therapy sessions' where she and Draco sat in a small room and she asked Draco questions, prompting him to talk about anything and everything. He had told her everything she had wanted to know: All about his family, his upbringing. His childhood, his school years. What he had been scared of as a child, what kept him awake at night. What he was interested in, what he enjoyed and what he liked to do in his spare time. Draco knew these talking sessions were something she knew about from her knowledge of muggle medicine and he was surprised at just how effective they seemed to be.

It was strange, being in the hospital. Kind of like being in limbo. Draco felt very cut off from the world, which was a feeling he was used to, however, here he felt very safe here. As much as Draco longed to be well, he was not in any way uncomfortable in St Mungos.

His room was small, clean, bright and well appointed. A large vase of sunflowers stood beside a crisp white bed. Draco wore hospital robes, white with a grey trim. He sat, hands folded in his lap, staring out through the open window into the blue sky, the long net curtains blowing back from time to time in the gentle breeze.

There was a gentle knock at the door and Miriam appeared.

'Good afternoon Draco.' She said gently, stepping into the room.

Draco jumped, as if awoken from a trance.

'Oh! Hello healer Merryweather.' He said cordially.

'Some more flowers arrived for you.' She smiled, holding up a large bunch of lilac stocks and white roses.

'Thank you.' Draco said softly, standing up to take the bouquet.

There was a card nestled in the flowers. Draco opened it and read the note.

'They're from minister Shacklebolt.' Draco said. 'He says he hopes I am recovering well.' Draco smiled and placed the flowers down on the table. 'That's nice of him, isn't it.' He concluded.

'Yes.' Miriam answered. 'People care about you Draco.'

Draco smiled and returned to his chair, seeming a little drowsy.

'May we talk?' Miriam asked him.

'Yes.' He replied.

Miriam pulled up a chair.

'How are you feeling?' She asked.

'Physically?' Draco asked.

'Yes, physically, and emotionally, if you care to tell me.'

'I'm ok.' Draco mused. 'I can do with less and less Elixir of Euphoria each time, so I must be getting better, mustn't I?'

'Yes.' Miriam smiled at him reassuringly. 'You are far less dependent than you were. I'm pleased with your progress, it's been better than I usually see.'

'I really want to get well.' Draco replied.

'And you will.' She smiled at him. 'How are you feeling, emotionally?'

'I...' Draco began confidently. 'I... I don't know.' He offered at last. 'I feel so confused. I don't think I feel how I'm supposed to feel.'

'How is it you are supposed to feel?' She asked him, and then noticing the anxious look on his face, she added, 'You're not on trial now, remember. I am not a judge, I'm a healer and my allegiance is always first and foremost to my patients. In this case, to you.'

Draco nodded. Somehow, Miriam had won his trust.

'I don't hate him like I'm supposed to.' Draco said in a sad voice as though he regretted this very much.

'The Dark Lord?' Miriam asked.

'Yes.' Replied Draco. 'I know I should hate him. Everyone hates him and I should hate him as much as anybody because he forced me to become his lover. It was a total abuse of power and I was so scared at first I thought I would die of fear. I **should** hate him. I disagree with what he stood for, he killed people and that was something I could never face. But somehow, despite all that, I can't hate him the way other people do. The way I **should**.'

'Why do you think that is?' Miriam prompted.

'Well, it could be that Stockholm Syndrome thing you talked about.' Draco mused. 'I think it's partly because in some ways I was grateful to him. Grateful that he didn't want to hurt me. It wasn't like people would imagine it, being his lover, I mean. I assumed, like anyone would, that he would be cruel to a lover. I assumed that inflicting pain would be part of the pleasure for him, but it wasn't. He really was gentle so long as I was willing. If I was keen then he was keen to please me.'

Draco paused and there was a long silence as Miriam sensed he had more to say.

'It wasn't always **bad**.' Draco concluded, feeling ashamed as he said it. 'I mean, whilst it wasn't what I would have chosen, **He** wasn't **who** I would have chosen, it wasn't always bad once it began. Sometimes, well... There were times when it was good, and I know that's wrong!' He added in the same breath. 'But I was lonely, **so** lonely. And the times that I was with him were the only times I was close to anyone. I needed it. I think I ended up needing it as much as he did. And there are times when... I miss it... I miss him.'

Draco breathed this confession and sighed deeply.

'I didn't exactly love him.' He said decidedly. 'But he was my whole world for a while. I don't think I miss him, for who he was, if you understand what I mean.' Draco paused and thought about how to phrase it. 'Perhaps I don't so much miss **him** as I miss **someone** , if that makes sense?' It sounded more acceptable that way.

Miriam smiled understandingly. She knew what he meant.

'Regardless of who he was, what he did when he was away from you, what he believed in... We are talking about someone who spent a lot of time with, when you had no one else on your life. You became their lover, they were the only person you knew. Now that person is dead. There's no crime in saying that you miss them, miss the closeness. It's normal. Well, nothing about this situation is normal, I suppose. Let's just say, it's **natural** that you feel this way.'

Draco looked thoughtful.

'I miss being with someone. Physically. Part of me desperately wants another lover as soon as possible, but part of me is not sure I'm ready.' Draco confessed. 'When I'm well enough to leave here I'll be able to be with someone, I suppose. But I feel scared that I'll fall into something for the wrong reasons.'

'How do you mean?' Miriam asked.

'I don't want to jump into bed with people because I'm so lonely. I don't want to be a whore. I know that's what I have been, but I don't want to be one anymore. I'm just scared because I don't feel like I know what a healthy relationship looks like.' Draco confessed.

'You weren't a whore, Draco.' Miriam said. 'Whores get paid. Generally a prostitute can, up to a point, negotiate a deal and chose who they do business with. You weren't afforded that choice, were you?'

Draco took her point and he nodded.

'And jumping into bed with people doesn't make you a whore, either. However, I do understand your concern. You're afraid that you're not in control of your need for closeness and that you might therefore made bad decisions?'

Draco nodded again.

'Know this, Draco...' Miriam began. 'You have complete choice over what you do from now on. You chose who you sleep with, on what terms, when, and for how long. You make the decisions and you can leave any time it stops feeling right. That's really the most important thing to remember. You never have to do anything if it doesn't feel right. So ask yourself, when you feel that you want someone, is it loneliness or desire motivating you?'

Draco nodded again. Control. The right to chose. The right to decide. That was what he needed to remember.

'What if...' He spoke quietly.

'Yes?'

'What if no one ever wants me again?' He asked nervously. 'I'm soiled goods after all.'

Miriam shook her head.

'No details have been made public, Draco remember. You were a prisoner, that's all that was said. Very few people know any more than that.'

'But my family name, who I am... Who would be prepared to lower themselves to get involved with someone like me?' Draco asked candidly.

'You may well be surprised.' Miriam smiled, subtly glancing at the flowers on the table.

Draco was looking down into his lap and didn't notice.

There was a knock at the door and a young wizard who worked as a hospital porter stuck his head into the room.

'Oh, sorry healer Merryweather!' He exclaimed. 'I have your robes, Mr Malfoy. Freshly washed for you.'

'Oh. Thank you.' Draco replied. 'Can you leave them on the chair please?'

'Certainly.' The wizard replied, and did so before vanishing again to continue with his rounds.

'Do you want me to leave you to change?' Miriam asked.

'You can go if you're busy.' Draco answered. 'But to be honest, I don't really want to get back into those clothes until I have to.' He confessed.

'Why is that?' Miriam asked, looking at the neatly folded black robes that Draco had been given whilst he was still at the ministry.

'They belonged to one of **them** , didn't they? To a death eater.' Draco said coldly. 'I don't like wearing them. And they are black. I don't want to wear black any more. **He** always made me wear black and I don't like it. I know I shouldn't be ungrateful and I know I'll have to wear them again when I leave because I have nothing else. But for the time being I'd rather wear these hospital things, if I may?'

'Of course you may!' Miriam exclaimed. 'Wear them for as long as you want.'

She then left Draco alone to his thoughts, so he could arrange his new flowers in a vase. He seemed to enjoy doing this. It was good for him. He also read a lot, some fiction books that Kingsley had sent over to him, as he had promised to do when they had spoken in the cell. Distractions were good for Draco, healer Merryweather thought. Things that bought him out of himself, distracted him from brooding, blaming himself and falling into a pit of self loathing and angst. He also slept a lot, but this was partly due to the potions he was taking as he was weaned off the stronger ones he had been used to. All things considered, he was making good progress.

Kingsley Shacklebolt called by the hospital later that afternoon, to consult with healer Merryweather. Perhaps he could check up on Draco's progress too, as he happened to be calling by anyway?

'He's sleeping, I'm afraid.' Miriam told Kingsley.

Kingsley nodded and smiled, although he was a little disappointed.

'How's he getting on?' He asked.

'Very well.' Miriam confirmed. 'He's on very low doses of Euphoria now. I think he'll be over his potion addiction in the next couple of weeks.'

'That is wonderful news.' The minister beamed. 'But tell me, how is he, in himself? Is he talking much, does he seem... hopeful?'

Miriam thought for a moment.

'He has moments of hopefulness, yes. He reads, and he likes the flowers people are sending him. He arranges them. He keeps his room immaculately tidy, he cleans it all the time. He seems to like having his own space. But he doesn't like his clothes, the ones from the ministry, the robes that were taken from another suspect. He told me he doesn't want to wear them because they belonged to a death eater, and he doesn't like to wear black, because that's what the Dark Lord dressed him in.'

Kingsley nodded.

'How insensitive of us! We should have realised he wouldn't want to wear something that had belonged to a death eater. I will see what we can find at the ministry tomorrow.'

'I'm sure he'll appreciate it.' Miriam smiled. 'How are the lawyers progressing with getting him some money for the manor?'

'It's a slow process I'm afraid.' Kingsley confessed. 'I'm afraid it won't be complete in two weeks if that it when he can be released.'

'I don't think I can keep him any longer than that.' Miriam mused. 'I've had him here over a month already. He'll want to leave, I know it. He's had enough of being locked up to last a lifetime. Besides, we really need the room, there are so many spell damaged people in need of treatment.'

'I quite understand.' Kingsley mused. 'I'll see if I can find a place for him to stay until the settlement is arranged. Otherwise he'll have no place to go.'

'Indeed. And he's still vulnerable.' Miriam said. 'It would be all too easy for someone to take advantage of him.'

'I'll make it my first priority.' Kingsley said at once. 'To find him somewhere, I mean.' He added quickly.

The following two weeks passed all to quickly for everyone concerned. The death eater trials were taking up so much of everybody's time, even the lawyers who were trying to sort out money for Draco had to be bought in to deal with hearings and to act as representatives. Suspects needed to be tried quickly and sentenced accordingly. The ministry cells were secure enough, but it was in everyone's interest to get dangerous prisoners to Azkaban as soon as possible.

Draco continued to make good progress as he reduced his potions doses a little each day, although he sometimes challenged himself too much, trying to miss doses altogether, which didn't help him in the long run. Tonks visited him several times and he found that he quite enjoyed her company. There was something naturally safe and reassuring about her. Something likeable and light-hearted about her personality and he felt grateful that she bothered to visit a miserable and confused wretch like him! He was pleased to establish that she changed her hair colour at will, and he wasn't going crazy or losing his memory, it really **was** different each time he saw her!

It was unfortunate that the week before Draco was set to be let out of hospital, Tonks and Remus were both called away as a few rouge death eaters had been located in France. This meant that Tonks was not able to offer Draco the bed in the spare room.

Two days before Draco's release, a parcel arrived for him. Miriam bought it up to his room. She would normally have all post for in-patients checked before it was delivered, but she decided, to show Draco some trust. She would give it to him unchecked. Besides, she was 99 percent certain she recognised the handwriting.

Draco took the parcel curiously and unfastened the strings. Intrigued, he pulled back the paper to see the contents.

Pale, silvery blue fabric, folded up. He lifted it up. There was some darker blue too, and some white... He gasped. It was robes! A full set of beautifully made, brand new, traditional robes! Dark, indigo blue trousers for when it was cold, a white tunic type shirt. Pale sliver-blue shimmery over tunic, with long slightly flared sleeves and a sleeveless, floor length waist coat which would be worn over the top of the tunic. The edges were richly embroidered with silver and midnight blue details. A tie belt to help it fit well to his shape. They were exquisite! As fine a quality as any he had owned while living with his parents, and a lovelier colour too. These were certainly not charity hand downs from the ministry stores! In fact, he discovered the robe-makers card was inside. These robes had just been made. He held up the tunic. It was a very narrow cut, so much so that it looked like it would actually fit him, not swamp him like everything else did. These robes looked like they had been made especially for him! He gasped with delight, and then looked up at healer Merryweather, a little confused.

'Where...?' He began. 'Who... who sent me these?'

'I couldn't say for sure, but I did mention to minister Shacklebolt that you didn't want to wear those old black ones, so...' Miriam replied.

'The minister sent me these?' Draco gasped again, admiring the fine stitching and details.

'I think so.' Miriam told him.

'It's too much!' Draco said helplessly. 'These would have been really expensive! How can I possibly accept them?' He gasped sadly.

'They look like they have been made for you, Draco. I doubt there'll be many other people who would fit in them.' Miriam said. 'Besides, the minister wouldn't have wanted to make you feel uncomfortable, I'm sure. You'll have your settlement through soon, and you can always buy him a thank you gift then.'

Draco frowned, and then slowly smiled and nodded. It would be ungrateful not to accept the robes, and they were very, very beautiful. What's more, they were very practical as well. A full set of traditional robes were great because they could be worn altogether or split up: Shirt and trousers, long sleeved tunic on it's own, or with the waistcoat, waistcoat over shirt and trousers... It was several outfits in one, if you needed it to be, which Draco did as he had no other clothes he wanted to wear.

It was in these robes that Draco Malfoy left St Mungos hospital. Miriam had given him a shoulder bag for his few possessions. They really were very few indeed. A couple of books which minister Shacklebolt had given him, a photo of his parents on their wedding day which Tonks had managed to find at her parents house. He had the gift card from Aarion which he had sent him with the chocolates while Draco was still in the ministry cell. He kept the chocolate wrappers too. He had the cards from all of the flowers he had received while he was in the hospital, and the paper that had been around them, all neatly folded up and pressed inside one of the books. It might have been stupid, the paper and the wrappers should certainly have been thrown away, Draco told himself, but they were his. They belonged to him, they had been given to him. He owned them, and for the time being he had nothing else.

Miriam had given Draco a business card with some details on it, a reference number and her signature. He was to take it to a building near the ministry of magic, a special shelter for witches and wizards in need of temporary accommodation. There were quite a few of them following the war. Draco would be able to go there, be given a bed and a night stand to call his own for as long as he needed them. He would be able to send and receive owls from there and would be contactable as soon as his settlement was agreed.

Draco stood, in his beautiful new robes, clutching his little bag of possessions, in the dark, shady entrance hall of St Mungos. The vestibule of the building was high ceilinged, and the walls were covered with green ceramic tiles, not dissimilar to the ones at the ministry of magic, only a slightly lighter shade. A huge brass plaque detailed the noted healers who worked there and the many dignified witches and wizards who were patrons. It was cool and quiet inside the vestibule, the tall marble pillars of the doorframe towering above Draco, who suddenly felt very small indeed as he considered walking through the great door and out into the big wide world. The light from the street was so bright in contrast with the shadowy world of the old hospital, Draco could see nothing out in the street other than stark whiteness. He could hear the noises though, in contrast to the peace and the restfulness of this great old building.

Draco could not remember the last time he stepped outside of a building by himself. He had enjoyed some accompanied walks in the hospital courtyard during his stay, but the last time he went anywhere outside, independently, must have been over a year ago, before the very first night he went to the Dark Lord. Even when he still had the manor to return to, he had never dared go outside, even to the grounds for fear of being discovered.

Draco felt a strange plethora of emotions as he stood on the threshold of the hospital about to step out into this brave new world. He was scared, excited and elated and anxious all at once. Was this a wonderful new adventure into freedom, or was he about to be cast out from a place of safety into a cruel, hard world where he would be shunned and hated?

He timidly stepped out into the sunlight, noise, and hustle and bustle of the street. The initial step being less frightening than he had imagined as the hospital had impressive steps outside. From here he could grow accustomed to the light, and observe the people passing by for a few seconds before attempting to join them as if he were a normal person leaving the hospital after having a broken bone mended.

He blinked in the bright light, intimidated by all the noise and all the people, but to his surprise and relief, no one seemed to notice him. They were all just carrying on with their lives and he was just one more person in the landscape of the street. Taking a deep breath he thought back over the directions that Miriam had given him and stepped down from the steps onto the pavement ready to set off on his journey.

'Mr Malfoy!' A rich, deep voice hailed him suddenly, making him jump and turn round instantly to see who it was who had identified him.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward from the side of the hospital building.

'Mr Malfoy.' He repeated. 'Draco. I was hoping to be here in time to meet you when you were released. I wonder, would you take a walk with me? Perhaps a coffee? I can update you on the progress of your settlement.'

The street was loud and busy. Draco felt overwhelmed. He thought not knowing anyone would be a good thing, but the second he saw Kingsley he was so grateful to see someone he did know he decided he was wrong to want to simply disappear into the crowd. With wide frightened eyes, he nodded and stepped towards the minister.

Kingsley smiled compassionately. He could not imagine just how frightening this must be for Draco, but knowing how isolated he had been, what he had been through, he knew this experience was going to be a big deal. Supportively, he offered Draco his arm.

Draco gratefully took it. He had felt very frightened and small out in the big world and now he held on to Kingsley like a fragile climbing rose clings to a strong, mighty tree. Draco didn't feel any less small, as Kingsley was several inches taller than him and a much larger frame, but he did feel a whole lot safer being with someone who knew him. Someone who was going to take him somewhere, with the purpose of getting a coffee. They could sit a while and talk. If nothing else it delayed the undesirable experience of having to go to the shelter and ask for a bed. Draco was not looking forward to that in the slightest.

Kingsley guided Draco through the streets and Draco held onto him tightly, the way a child grips their parents hand when they are scared or nervous.

'I know a quiet little cafe a few streets away.' Kingsley continued as they walked. Draco seemed too overwhelmed to speak. 'Lets go there and get you a nice hot drink... Somewhere away from the crowds, would that help?' He said kindly.

The frightened Draco simply nodded, his voice didn't seem to want to work. Perhaps a hot drink would fix that too?

The cafe was small and unassuming but clean and reasonably cheerful. Kingsley gave Draco the choice of where to sit and he opted for a secluded table in the corner where he sat with his back to the wall so that he could survey the room. Kingsley smiled sympathetically. Draco displayed very classic nervous behaviour!

Draco sat with his hands clasped in his lap, glancing about him. He wasn't sure if people were staring and if they were, **why** they were and what it meant. He tried to conclude that he must just be paranoid.

'What would you like to drink?' Kingsley asked him.

'I... I don't know...' Draco managed to answer. He couldn't remember ever being in a place like this and couldn't really picture what the different choices were like.

'I'll order for you if you like?' Kingsley offered kindly.

'Yes, please.' Draco replied gratefully.

Kingsley went to order drinks at the counter leaving the nervous boy alone at the table, glancing about himself at the other people in the shop. Some people **were** looking at him, he was sure of it. A pretty young witch on a nearby table kept looking his way and smiling before looking away again. Draco couldn't understand why so he simply tried his best not to notice.

Kingsley returned with two large cappuccinos which had whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on top. The most high calorie drink on the menu! Draco needed to eat more, anyone could see that, and Kingsley... well he had a workout scheduled later. He sat down and passed a mug to Draco.

'Thank you.' Draco said. 'And thank you for these robes!' he added, recovering his voice. 'You sent them, didn't you?'

'Yes. I sent them.' Kingsley smiled. 'They suit you very well.'

'You're far too generous!' Draco exclaimed. 'I'll pay you back for them as soon as I can.'

'They're a gift.' Kingsley replied. 'You may not have realised at the time, but the day you were bought into the ministry was the fifth of June. It was your birthday.'

Draco looked shocked and taken a back.

'So the robes are a belated birthday present. There will be no need to pay anyone back for them.' Kingsley said firmly.

'How did you know my birthday was the fifth of June?' Draco asked, puzzled.

'I've been involved with the lawyers who are sorting out your settlement for the house. I've seen your birth records and I've overwritten the death record the ministry created for you.'

'Oh.' said Draco. Of course. It had been a bit of a stupid question.

'Anyway, I bought you here to talk about your settlement for the...' Kingsley stopped.

Draco had taken a large spoonful of the cream and chocolate from his coffee and tasted it. His eyes had lit up like a child's in a candy shop. St Mungos served good food, but nothing like this! Draco looked elated and it was wonderful to watch!

'Your settlement for the manor.' Kingsley continued at last, not wanting to embarrass Draco by staring at him.

'Do you think I'll get anything?' Draco asked tentatively.

Kingsley raised his eyebrows and smiled.

'Yes Draco. You'll get a lot! The best lawyers we have are working on it. I have some figures I can tell you if you'd like?'

Draco nodded enthusiastically, desperate to know if he was looking at being about to buy a loaf of bread, a new set of clothes or pay rent on an apartment.

Kingsley took a piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes and scrutinised it.

'Our best financial lawyer is a muggle-born.' He explained. 'He has calculated it in muggle money, so I don't know how much sense you'll make of it...'

'I understand it a little.' Draco clarified. He had certainly read a book about the conversion rates in the library at the manor. He remembered it vividly because he was surprised his father had such a book. Then he had realised the potential to exploit muggles with that kind of knowledge and it made a little more sense why his father might have wanted to read it.

'OK.' Kingsley smiled. 'So, the manor itself would have had a market value of 12 million "pounds". Had the ministry wished to buy it from you, for development or otherwise. That is how much they would have had to pay. Now, unfortunately that amount will not be given to you in retrospect.'

Draco nodded. He had never thought it would be.

'However, compensation must be made. The ministry assumed you dead with no real evidence. What's more they did this at a turbulent time, when there was a very real chance that you had been abducted, or had gone into hiding for your own safety. Given the circumstances the ministry was certainly hasty with the death certificate and too quick to act to claim the land.'

Draco said nothing and simply listened.

'It has been decided that one third of the market value should be paid to you in a lump sum.' Kingsley told him. 'That's four million of these "pound" things.'

'That's a lot of money.' Draco breathed, awestruck. Suddenly life didn't look so bleak after all! Maybe he wouldn't have to go to this shelter at all!

'There's more.' Kingsley smiled. 'The ministry took your home and knocked it down and are well into the process of developing a new town on the land. Now, a whole town is worth more in market value than one manor house. Considerably more. The ministry is set to profit enormously from the unfortunate series of events, whereas you are left with no home and only one third of its value.'

Draco frowned.

'I didn't think I'd have anything at all.' He replied.

'But you will.' Kingsley confirmed. 'In addition to the sum of money paid for the value of the house, you will also have one third ownership of the completed town. Shops, houses... you will own a third of it. You then have the choice whether you want to sell parts of it off, or keep them for the rental value. That would certainly allow you to support yourself if you wanted to study, wouldn't it?'

Draco was speechless. He had not imagined for one moment he would receive an offer like this.

'So you see, you will be a very wealthy young man.' Kingsley smiled at him kindly.

'Thank you, minister, for all the kind things you've done!' Draco exclaimed. 'I know it was you who arranged for the lawyers to do this for me. You've been so good to me. It's much more than I deserve.' He said.

Kingsley shook his head.

'My ministry gave up on trying to find you, abandoning you to your fate. They then destroyed your family home and all of your possessions. The very least I can do is try to make some kind of gesture of compensation to you.'

'It wasn't **your** ministry at the time though, was it?' Draco clarified, remembering the back issues of the daily prophet he had scrutinised whilst in hospital. 'You only became minister very recently.'

'That's true.' said Kingsley. 'But I still feel responsible for it. Between you and I, Draco, there are several actions of the old ministry that I would like to be able to put right.'

Draco smiled. There was a real kindness in Kingsley Shacklebolt, a real desire to do the right thing. Draco was a little suspicious of it at first, but it seemed very genuine.

'There is still one problem, I'm afraid.' Kingsley said solemnly.

'What's that?' Draco asked.

'Gringotts goblins handle all our finances, and getting money from them, even the ministry's own money, can be a long process. I'm afraid the financial settlement won't be ready to be transferred to you for about another month.' Kingsley said gently.

Draco looked horrified. The thought of going to the shelter had been pushed from his mind, but now, all of a sudden, it was back again. Looming imminently.

'Don't look so frightened, Draco!' Kingsley exclaimed. 'It might take a month, but it **is** coming. For definite. It's all agreed and signed off.'

Draco nodded and tried not to look ungrateful.

'All that we need to do in the meantime is make sure you have somewhere safe to stay.' Kingsley continued. 'Tell me, where is it you are planning to go?'

Draco reached into his bag and pulled out the card with the details of the shelter.

'Healer Merryweather gave me this.' He explained, handing it to Kingsley.

Kingsley looked at it and frowned.

'It's a good place, run by good people, but I'm not sure it's the right place for you, Draco. Do you want to go there?'

Now Draco frowned. Of course he didn't want to go there, but it wasn't like he had a lot of choice.

'I'm grateful of anywhere to go, minister.' He replied. 'But, no, I don't really want to go there. I feel nervous about having to sleep in a dormitory and be around people all the time. I'm a little out of practice at that.'

Draco tried to make light of his trauma, just like he had done a couple of times during his trial, but Kingsley could see how worried Draco really was.

'I understand.' He said reassuringly. 'And what's more, I think I may be able to help you.'

Draco looked puzzled again.

'Minister, really, you have helped me enough! More than enough! I can't ask any more of you!' He pleaded.

'But you're not asking, I'm offering.' Kingsley clarified. 'I'm offering to help you and really, it's no trouble at all. I think I may have a better place for you to stay, if you would like to consider it. A place where you can stay by yourself and have all the space and privacy you need. Will you at least come and see it?'

'Of course!' Said Draco, finishing his coffee. 'Thank you minister! Thank you so much!'

Kingsley led Draco through the streets once more. Draco held onto his arm again, although he held on less tightly than he had done before. He was a little less frightened, but still grateful of the support. They walked from the meek, quiet, closed street where the cafe was nestled into a far grander part of town. Here, the streets were wide and lined with trees. The elegant white buildings were set back from the pavements behind tall black iron railings. Flights of marble steps lead up to ostentatious front doors. This was a very beautiful part of magical London. It was generally referred to as the New Town. New in the sense that it was build in the late 1700's, as opposed to the older areas which dated back to 1200's or even earlier.

'We're almost there, Draco.' Kingsley assured him.

Draco looked about himself disbelievingly. Surely, the place they were going to wasn't in this part of town?

Kingsley slowed his pace and he led Draco to a very grand looking building on the corner of the street. He taped his wand on the elaborate gates and they swung open allowing him and Draco to walk up the stairs to the front door. Here again, Kingsley tapped his wand on the handle and the huge door opened and allowed them to enter.

Draco was rather puzzled. What could they possibly be doing in a building like this? It was probably a similar age to St Mungos, although it was far more lavishly decorated. Even the foyer was dripping with opulent touches. Plush red carpets covered the floor, dignified portraits looked down from the walls and an alabaster statue of a young wizard intimately conversing with a centaur stood in the centre of the space. Draco stared at the statue. It was very fine work and there was something vaguely erotic about the closeness between the two figures.

'A beautiful statue, isn't it?' Kingsley remarked. _'Magical Relations_ , it's called. I understand some of the residents of the building don't approve of it. Some people just don't know art when they see it, do they, Mr Malfoy?' He grinned.

Draco half smiled back, he was a little too confused and overwhelmed to really take this in.

Kingsley took Draco past the sweeping marble staircase, back towards the elevators.

'It's a long way up. A lot of stairs. We'll go this way.' He smiled.

Inside the elevator Kingsley pressed the button marked 'Penthouse'.

'This floor is private. Authorisation please.' A voice sounded within the lift.

'Minister Shacklebolt.' Kingsley said calmly.

'Good morning minister.' The voice greeted him. 'Penthouse floor.' It said and the lift sprung into action.

The building was tall and the lift was clearly taking them all the way to the top but despite this the journey was quick. Draco barely had time to take in his surroundings, the gold panels, the highly polished mirrors, the smell of cleanness and furniture polish, before the lift stopped and the doors slid open.

'Thank you minister. Good day.' The voice said.

'Thank you.' Kingsley replied and he and Draco stepped from the lift into the private penthouse floor of the building.

They were in a small foyer area and a large mahogany door stood before them. The thick carpets on this floor were a creamy gold colour and a couple of tall exotic plants were placed each side of the door, adding drama and colour. Kingsley took out his wand and tapped it on the door knocker. The gold handle turned and the door opened soundlessly.

'This is the place.' He said, stepping across the threshold with the wide eyed Draco still holding onto his arm.

Draco was stunned into silence. They were in one of the most beautiful interior spaces he had ever seen, even taking into consideration the lavish surroundings of his childhood. The penthouse apartment was stunning. High ceilings with perfect plaster cornicing and ceiling rose details. Elaborate, neo classical door frames in which perfectly polished mahogany doors added warmth and contrast to the light and airy space. Ornate gold mirrors reflected the light still further and tastefully selected contemporary art provided though provoking, yet unobtrusive points of interest. The furniture was eclectic, some matched the age of the building whilst other pieces were more modern. Each piece however was so well chosen for the space it occupied the overall effect was a symphony of perfect taste.

Draco stood, aghast for several minutes, looking into the various rooms that could be seen from the central hallway. Surely this wasn't the place minister Shacklebolt thought he could stay? How could he ever afford it? He had no money and would have none for at least a month. This must be some sort of joke!

'Well? What do you think?' Kingsley asked at last.

'Its... it's beautiful!' Draco exclaimed. 'But I have no money! How could I ever stay somewhere like this? I mean, who's apartment is this?'

'It's mine.' Kingsley replied. 'Well, that is to say, it belongs to the ministry of magic. It's the ministers apartment, it comes with the job. Cornelius Fudge had it before me, I inherited it when I became minister. Of course I had it completely redecorated, Fudge's taste was rather more old fashioned than mine. But the truth is I never actually use it. I have a house a couple of streets away and this place just stands empty. But it's here for me to do with as I wish. What do you think, Draco? Would you like to stay here?'

'I... I'd love to!' Draco exclaimed. 'But, minister, it's too much! You know I don't have any money!'

'You don't need to worry about that.' Kingsley offered. 'Any food you need is included, you simply leave a list for the house elves and they stock the kitchen for you. Alternatively you can get them to cook for you if you wish.'

'I didn't mean that.' Draco replied. In truth, he hadn't even thought about things like buying food. 'I meant that, well, I won't be able to pay you any rent.'

'Draco.' Said Kingsley firmly, resting his hands on Draco's shoulders. 'I don't want you to have to go and stay at a shelter. I want you to be somewhere completely safe and private, where you have your own space. This apartment is empty. I'd like you to make use of it. I'm going to leave you here to relax, make yourself feel at home. I really won't take no for an answer.' He smiled.

Draco paused and drew breath. He wanted to say yes, of course he did. The apartment was beautiful, it was everything he craved. Private, spacious, elegant and best of all, clean and light. No darkness, no dirt, no cobwebs anywhere. Light, bright and beautiful everywhere he looked!

'But, what about the rent?' He managed to ask again.

Kingsley moved towards the door to leave.

'Don't you worry about rent, Draco. I don't need any money, after all.' Kingsley said. 'You just make yourself feel at home and I will come by on Friday night. If you are still worried about rent, well... I'm sure you and I can come to some sort of arrangement.'

With that, he left, shutting the door behind him, leaving the speechless Draco in the hallway staring after him.

Alone in the apartment, Draco felt very out of place. In this beautiful clean space he felt like an interloper, a dirty intruder, a mangy stray cat who had somehow found it's way in and shouldn't be there. He tiptoed into the spacious lounge. He lightly touched the white sofa and ran his fingers along the old oak sideboard. He hardly dared touch anything for fear of making it dirty.

Then he caught sight of his reflection in a huge mirror.

It took him by surprise. For however out of place he may have felt, he certainly looked like he belonged there. In his elegant, designer robes with his fine aristocratic features he looked very much at home in the beautiful apartment. Pleasantly surprised he straightened his posture and raised his head a little.

But something wasn't quite right about this whole arrangement! Draco wondered across the hall and opened the door of another room. It was a bedroom. The master bedroom. Draco stepped inside and looked long and hard and the huge bed. French regency style with ornate scrolling head and footboards. It was white with gold to emphasise the details. The bed linen was white also. Beautifully clean and neat. It looked sumptuous, inviting and very seductive. The whole room in fact was very seductive. Beautifully appointed, white and clean with gorgeous purple velvet accents, the curtains, upholstery and cushions on the bed.

 _'...I'm sure you and I can come to some sort of arrangement...'_

That was what minister Shacklebolt had said, but just what exactly did he mean by that? Draco mused. He flopped down into a huge, soft purple armchair which stood before an elegant dressing table.

 _'...I'm sure you and I can come to some sort of arrangement...'_

Surely he didn't mean...? Draco glanced over at the bed. He couldn't mean... _that_! But it **had** sounded very suggestive, the way he had said it, and the way he had left immediately afterwards before Draco had the chance to ask any questions.

 _'...I'll come round on Friday night...'_

Friday had been the night that Draco had gone to Voldemort, in the early days. Had minister Shacklebolt said he would come round on Friday specifically, to put the idea in Draco's head?

 _'Don't you worry about rent, Draco. I don't need any money, after all... I'm sure you and I can come to some sort of arrangement...'_

What else could he have meant?

'Don't be ridiculous!' Draco spoke out loud to his reflection in the looking glass. 'He's the minister for magic, for goodness sake! He's not the sort of person to make a proposition like that! Besides...' He scowled angrily at himself, 'As if a respectable person like the minister for magic is going to want to go anywhere near you!'

Draco paused, his eyes cloudy like an angry storm.

'As if a dignified, distinguished person like the minister for magic would want to so much as touch a filthy little tramp like you! Even if it was just to use you for a good time, he's hardly going to want to sink so low as to screw a cheap little whore who spent a year on his knees for the Dark Lord, is he? He's not going to be interested in a charity case like you! Kingsley Shacklebolt is wealthy, successful, brave, charming, kind, handsome... He's hardly going to need to make sordid arrangements with some messed up little slut if he wants to get laid!'

Draco finished his torrent of self abuse and sat in silence as if he were reflecting on his words.

He accepted that he still had some deep wounds after his experiences, his self esteem was very low and he had to do a lot of work on forgiving himself for what he had done. Healer Merryweather had warned him about this, and she had told him not to talk to himself in a negative way. It was easier said than done!

However, it wasn't the horrible things he had said about himself that caused Draco to sit in silence and think deeply; it was the nice things he had said about Kingsley. _'Brave, charming, kind, handsome...'_ It was true. Kingsley **was** all of those things.

He was very charismatic and extremely attractive, Draco mused. He had dignity, poise and baring. He was aristocratic, almost regal. He was a pure blood, although one wasn't meant to care about that, these days, Draco reminded himself. But he was very attractive. He was powerful and Draco was slightly uncomfortable with how much that excited him, because it reminded him of the fact that Voldemort had been so much more powerful than him. However, Kingsley was everything that Voldemort was not. He was as kind as he was strong. He was respectful, he was a good person. He was masterful yet supportive and Draco remembered how good it had felt to hold onto his thick, muscular arm when he had felt afraid. Kingsley's voice was rich, soothing and seductive. His words were like honey and Draco wondered, just for a moment, if his kisses were just as sweet?

He shook himself out of his trance. Kingsley couldn't have meant that! he told himself over and over again. Though, the more he tried to convince himself he had misunderstood the message, the more times he played the words over in his head...

 _'Don't you worry about rent, Draco. I don't need any money, after all... I'm sure you and I can come to some sort of arrangement...'_

The more he thought about it, the more it sounded in every way like a proposition. Just what exactly had Kingsley meant by it?

Draco was not the only one who was troubled. Outside in the street, Kingsley walked back to the ministry building his mind unsettled, his heart racing. He was not sure what he had meant by it, either.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco tried hard not to think about the Minister's parting words, but it was almost impossible. Throughout the week, he tried to concentrate on settling into the apartment and make himself feel more confident about the prospect of mixing with people again. However his mind kept drifting back to what Kingsley had said to him. Draco found that he lingered for longer and longer on the 'what ifs...' and it was difficult to tear his thoughts away from imagining all sorts of possibilities that might unfold when the minister came to visit him on Friday.

What would it be like? Draco wondered, particularly when he climbed into the huge bed at night. He lay there alone and he wondered what it would be like to have Kingsley Shacklebolt laying beside him, reaching over to him under the blankets, taking him in his big strong arms, holding him...

What would it be like to sleep with anyone other than Voldemort, he wondered? Would it be different? **How** would it be different? And how would it feel to have a choice? For, even if Kingsley's 'proposition' had definitely been a proposition, Draco could say 'no' if he wanted. If he said no, he might not get to stay in the beautiful apartment which he was getting to rather like, but he **could** say no if he wanted to. The problem was, he was pretty sure he didn't want to say no if sex was indeed what was on offer.

Draco remembered telling healer Merryweather about his concerns relating to loneliness and the need for a lover. She had suggested that when he was thinking about sleeping with someone he should check in with himself first and ask himself the question 'is it loneliness or desire?' It had seemed like helpful advice at the time. Draco had assumed it would be a question that he could easily answer. The reality was far more complicated.

Yes, he did feel lonely. Night times were hard. He felt vulnerable and sometimes there were nightmares to contend with. He imagined how much safer and how protected he would feel with someone there beside him. As the thick, heavy duvet covers weighed down on him, enveloping him in their embrace, he longed for the embrace of another person. When he snuggled down against the pillow, he fantasised he was snuggling against a lovers chest. It had never really been like that with Voldemort, and it occurred to Draco it may not be that way with anyone else either, but still, he longed for the experience he imagined.

As well as longing for affection, Draco missed sex too! Though he wanted encounters which were more than just sex, it didn't mean he missed sexual contact any less. So, was this loneliness or desire?

Draco asked himself, " _did he feel desire for Kingsley specifically, or simply desire for anyone, so that he wasn't alone?"_ Again, the answer was difficult to gage. There was no question that Kingsley was very attractive. There was no question that Draco felt attracted to him. However, Kingsley was one of very few people who Draco had been in contact with since he was rescued, and he was the only person Draco had any real contact with since his release from hospital. Was isolation playing a factor here?

In the end, Draco thought perhaps he was over analysing the whole situation. As the week went on, it became more and more obvious to Draco that he couldn't actually think about minister Shacklebolt without smiling, blushing or feeling butterflies in his stomach. Perhaps the answer was as simple as that?

By Thursday, Draco was mostly concerned that maybe he had misunderstood the comment Kingsley had made altogether. He was no longer worried that the Minister may have made an illicit proposition to him, instead he was worried that maybe he had **not**.

However, Draco was not naive and the words Kingsley had said and the tone of voice in which he had said them had been pretty clear. However improbable it may seem, Minister Shacklebolt was coming round on Friday night to collect his 'rent' in the only way that Draco was able to pay it.

So on Friday at around midday, Draco ran himself a deep, hot bath. He poured in some scented bath salts, sweet and spicy, like cinnamon and sugar. He slipped into the warm, golden water. He shaved his legs and intimate areas, taking his time, exploring himself as though all this were completely new to him. He soaked in the water until it cooled so much that it would have needed a warming charm to heat it. He decided that meant it was time to get out. In front of the full length mirror, he applied a rich oil to his whole body, smoothing it in sensuous circles, making sure everywhere was covered and every inch of him was as perfect as it could be. He worked slowly and deliberately, this once practiced and familiar ritual seeming new and unfamiliar after so long.

He took a pair of scissors and cut his hair, which had grown to his shoulders. He didn't cut it short, simply to about chin length and, pleasantly surprised by his ability, he cut himself a sweeping fringe too which framed his face. On his first day in the apartment, Draco had found a draw of spare wands and had tentatively begun to re-teach himself to use them after 6 months without one. Picking up the wand he had taken to using the most, a pale ash wood with a unicorn hair core, he used a cosmetic charm to put some honey coloured low lights through his icy hair. They made him look a bit warmer, a little less ill.

It felt good. Not only to be confidently using magic again, but to have the personal space to wash and groom himself as thoroughly as he wanted to. Although he had always been required to keep himself in good order for Voldemort, once he could no longer return to the manor there was no real pleasure in it for him. It was wonderful to have time and space to make himself feel good about his body. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was noticeably thinner than the last time he had done this, which surprised him as he had had the house elves cooking for him for the last week! He was pale too, but that was nothing new. Draco thought he looked scrawny and was not entirely happy with himself when he really thought about it. What would Kingsley think of him? Surely he wouldn't actually be attracted to someone so weedy and pathetic?

There was very little Draco could do about it however, so he simply decided to make the best of it that he could. He did have some nice features after all. He had nice skin, pretty features, lovely eyes with surprisingly long lashes. He had a perfect complexion like smooth double cream, with just a hint of colour in his cheeks. His body was thin, but he was well proportioned. He was not as tall as he would have liked to be, but actually this made his thinness seem less odd. He was small and perfectly formed and now he was beautifully smooth and silky, absolutely everywhere. He slipped into a short white silk dressing gown which had been hanging in the wardrobe, and waited for Kingsley to arrive.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was as apprehensive as Draco Malfoy, if not slightly more so. It was he, after all, who had made the veiled suggestion. It was he who would knock on the apartment door and approach Draco. It was he who was taking the lead and he was still not sure exactly what he thought was going to happen. He had thought about it all week too, and had reached the alarming conclusion that, however wrong it may be, he was very attracted to the boy and definitely wanted to sleep with him. However, he felt very uncomfortable about the whole situation. Draco had turned 17 now, so yes he was young, but he wasn't a child. That part at least was OK. It was the power imbalance which made it wrong. Draco being homeless and without money, albeit temporarily, meant he might feel he had to sleep with Kingsley out of gratitude. Add to this the trauma of his experiences with the Dark Lord and suddenly the whole situation was a huge mess and making a move on Draco in any situation seemed rather unethical.

However, Draco was bound to be lonely, so visiting him was not, in itself, a bad thing. Kingsley decided he would not pressure Draco. In fact he vowed not to mention anything about rent, or to be in any way flirtatious, and only to bring it up if Draco instigated it. He bought a huge bunch of peach coloured roses as a gesture of friendship.

Kingsley made his way up to the apartment feeling very conspicuous and awkward. Had the enchanted elevator voice always sounded quite so judgemental, or was he simply being paranoid? He knocked on the door of the apartment.

Inside Draco, who had been pacing the corridor, felt his stomach lurch and he spun round towards the door staring at it in fright before he took a deep breath and went to open it.

'Oh!... Good evening Mr Malfoy.' Kingsley managed, instantly thrown when he caught sight of Draco wearing nothing but the short white dressing gown.

'Good evening minister. Do come inside.' Draco replied in a silky voice which betrayed none of his nerves.

'Oh, thank you.' Kingsley said and he stepped into the apartment shutting the door behind him.

Draco stood, smiling at him, looking more irresistible than Kingsley had imagined. He was barely dressed. He had gorgeous bare legs, almost as pale as the silk dressing gown. He smelled sweet, spicy, he had a playful glint in his sparkling grey eyes. He looked confident and well groomed, which made him seem less vulnerable, and made Kingsley feel less guilty about wanting him.

'I, I bought you some roses.' Kingsley said, recovering himself. 'I thought they would help to brighten up the place.' He offered the flowers to Draco.

'Thank you minister.' Draco smiled, taking them from him.

He inhaled the scent, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, savouring the experience.

'They're beautiful.' He said gratefully.

They were well presented too, standing in enchanted water and tied with a gold ribbon. Draco carefully stood them on the regency half moon table which stood in the hallway. An elegant mirror stood behind it and Draco could see Kingsley watching him in the reflection as he arranged the bouquet.

Kingsley tried his best to concentrate on his good intentions, and not to stare as Draco leant forward to arrange the flowers, but he was not entirely sure Draco had even so much as underwear on beneath that dressing gown!

'I... I just... I just came by to, to, errr... see how you were settling in... I wanted to...'

Draco turned to Kingsley, a saucy smile playing across his lips.

'It's alright, minister. I know what you've come for.' Draco said smoothly. 'You've come for the rent.'

And with that, Draco reached out and took hold of Kingsley's hand and began to lead him down the hallway.

Somewhat lost for words, Kingsley followed him, lost in the electrifying connection of Draco's cold little hand in his own much warmer, larger one.

Draco led him straight to the bedroom where, letting go of his hand, he walked over to the bed and looked back at Kingsley with a suggestive smile.

'Draco I, I don't think...' Kingsley began, feeling he had to at least attempt to do the right thing, the moral thing, and resist the temptation before him.

His good intentions were silenced however as Draco, glancing at Kingsley over his shoulder, unfastened his dressing gown and pushed it slowly back over his delicate shoulders before letting the silk garment slither sensuously to the floor. He stood, naked before the minister.

Kingsley gasped. It was too much, **far** too much to expect him to hold back now! His eyes trailed over Draco's naked body. The soft creamy tone of his skin, the fragility and detail of his bones, visible in places, his shoulders, collarbones, his hips. He looked as smooth as silk, he looked as pale as snow. He looked pure, untouched, angelic, like a beautiful, ethereal statue bought to life. Surely it would have been inhuman to expect anyone to resist! Kingsley could not go back now, surely, no red blooded man could resist such temptation! Slowly, purposefully he stepped towards the bed, shrugging off his outer robes as he approached.

Draco's heart was racing. He had thought for a moment that Kingsley was going to turn him down he had paused for so long. Then Draco had recognised desire in his eyes. He recognised the glint of pure lust, it was unmistakable. It was a look like the one a hungry lion gives its prey before it pounces and tears off its first, satisfying bite. Draco knew that lustful look all too well, although he liked it better on Kingsley than where he had seen it before. He wanted to be the prey now, wanted to be devoured, wanted to be taken. He climbed up onto the bed and knelt there, facing Kingsley as he approached.

What will it be like? Draco wondered, Would it be how it had been with Voldemort or would it be different?

It **was** different. It was very different, right from the start. From the moment Kingsley reached the bed and dropped to his knees before Draco, looking up at him adoringly, it was different. The moment Kingsley put his large, strong hands on Draco's tiny waist and began to lightly place kisses across his abdomen, his taught stomach and his chest, it was different.

Kingsley kissed him like he was precious. He worshiped every inch of Draco's body with his thick, sensuous lips, working lightly against his flesh. His kisses designed to please Draco, not simply to gratify himself.

Draco felt dizzy. Kingsley took care, took his time. He kissed Draco's chest but avoided his nipples, not wanting to give him too much stimulation too soon. He kissed lower and lower, over his prominent hip bones, towards his crotch but never touching his cock, wanting to build up the intensity first. It pleased him, however, to notice that Draco was already hard.

Draco gasped with delight and gripped onto Kingsley's muscular shoulder to steady himself as Kingsley reached up and at last brushed his thumb over one of Draco's nipples. Draco's cloudy brain wondered how such a small thing could be quite so overpowering and intense as a shot of pure desire surged through him, his cock twitching hopefully, longing for contact.

Kingsley's chain of adoring, sweet kisses wound their way up to Draco's neck. Draco drew breath sharply as Kingsley sucked and licked at the tender skin of his shoulders. Kingsley, feeling almost delirious with desire himself, climbed onto the bed with Draco at last, ready to take him over completely.

He took the naked boy in his arms, keen to allow his lips to explore one of the few parts of Draco's body they had not yet been to: Draco's mouth. Kingsley's lips hovered over Draco's and for a split second there was nervousness which was immediately followed by the lightest touch between them, a tentative open mouthed kiss which lasted only a moment.

Draco's wide, grey eyes stared up into Kingsley's deep brown ones and they gazed at each other, as if looking for permission to continue, both sure that their pounding hearts could be heard audibly in the room. Kingsley caressed Draco's face tenderly, looking at the boy with such unadulterated longing, admitting to himself that he had wanted this from the very first moment he set eyes on the beautiful young creature. Draco started back at him, lost in wonder and euphoria at the care and attention that had already been paid to him. He looked deep into Kingsley's eyes and was utterly overcome as he saw clearly not just lust and desire, but kindness too. Not in contrast to the desire, but in harmony with it. It was the most beautiful, captivating thing Draco had ever seen.

Perhaps it shouldn't have felt so right. They barely knew each other and there were so many reasons for it to feel wrong, but somehow it was as if a piece of the universe had finally fallen into its right place. Stopping this would have been like trying to stop a waterfall from crashing onto the rocks, or stopping the tide being pulled by the moon.

Suddenly the tension was too much to bare and they unanimously found the permission they sought. Flinging their arms around one another they fell into deep, searing kisses; passionate, affectionate and overwhelming. Kingsley's strong arm wrapped around Draco's waist holding him tightly against his body whilst Draco's cold little hands gripped Kingsley's face possessively and needily.

Draco opened his mouth and let Kingsley explore him with his tongue. He explored back with equal enthusiasm, which Kingsley allowed. It had never been like this with Voldemort. Voldemort had kissed Draco so aggressively that it hardly felt like kissing at all, not compared to this! Draco had barely been able to participate in the kissing with Voldemort. It was more something that was done **to** him than something he played a part in. This was so different!

Kingsley somehow turned kissing into an art form, the complexity, intricacy and intensity of each movement created a symphony of sensuality between them. Without planning or rehearsal they somehow knew exactly the moves to make and which parts to play as their mouths fell instinctively into perfect rhythm with one another. Kingsley pulled Draco into his lap.

Draco felt light headed and as though he could see stars and suddenly he felt more elated than he could remember feeling in his whole life. Kingsley's strong hands ran down his naked back, then one hand was stroking his face again, the other creeping lower and just beginning to caress ass cheeks. Draco didn't feel afraid, because nothing that was happening felt careless or as though it was happening too fast. Every touch and action followed perfectly from the one before, so when Kingsley's fingers brushed lightly along the crevice between his cheeks and teased over his hole, it didn't feel as though it was too soon. In fact it was almost not soon enough as Draco's body was crying out for this attention and there was nothing he wanted more than actual penetration!

Kingsley, however, was never one to take things too fast. He liked to do things properly, and so however keen he was to be inside Draco, he held back. Foreplay came first. His fingers gently squeezed Draco's pale pink nipples, causing Draco to whimper in pleasure, the sound lost inside Kingsley's mouth as they continued to kiss. Draco shifted his weight so that he straddled Kingsley's lap, his legs apart. He pressed his body against him, his hands roaming up and down Kingsley's broad back.

It was at this point that Kingsley realised that he was still partly clothed, and that was rather odd. Draco was naked, he was not. That wasn't right. Without wanting to break away from Draco's lips, he reached down to the hem of his robes and pulled them upwards to remove them. His lips left Draco's for a second as he lifted the fabric over his head.

Draco stared at him, captivated by his body. Draco had never seen anyone else completely naked before. Voldemort had never removed his own robes, not completely. He had insisted on Draco's nakedness, but had liked to remain clothed himself. It changed the dynamic instantly and it was a whole new experience for Draco, to be naked with someone else who was naked also. Being naked with someone who remained clothed made him feel vulnerable and exposed. Being naked with someone who was also naked felt intimate and as though there was a kind of deep trust between you, as if you could be vulnerable together and share the secrets of each other's bodies.

Seeing Kingsley naked did nothing to make Draco feel any better about his own paleness and thinness. Kingsley had been an auror for a long time, and the intensive physical training programme had made him very muscular and well conditioned. His skin was a beautiful rich, deep brown, such a contrast to Draco's almost translucent paleness. Draco could have happily lost himself for hours simply gazing at Kingsley Shacklebolt's impressive body.

However, Kingsley had his own reasons to be self conscious of course. Like many aurors he had scars. One deep scar ran across his abdomen in a lethal-looking jagged line. He had always hated this scar, but accepted it as he was lucky to even have survived the injury. Draco noticed it right away, but he didn't think it was ugly, like Kingsley did. Draco saw it for what it was: A badge of heroism and bravery which made Kingsley more attractive, not less. He was more in awe of him than ever.

He reached his hand out, tentatively towards Kingsley's chest, longing to touch his silky skin. He rested his hand over his heart and Kingsley, a little puzzled, placed his own hand over Draco's.

'What's the matter, baby?' Kingsley whispered, confused by Draco's confusion.

Draco, who was a little lost, exploring the lines of Kingsley's body with his eyes, seemed to start out of a trance.

'Oh! Nothing. Nothing's wrong.' He whispered back. 'It's just I've never... never seen anyone naked before.'

Kingsley tried not to look too shocked and he tried not to give too much thought to just how it must have felt to have been someone's 'lover' for a year and never to have seen them naked. He pulled Draco near to him again so that they were skin to skin.

'Does the scar bother you?' Kingsley asked him, moving his hand near to it.

Draco shook his head.

'Does it hurt?' Draco asked.

'No.' Kingsley replied. 'It's an old wound...' He traced Draco's hand along it gently. 'It's all fixed up now.'

He lifted Draco's hand up to his lips and kissed it. His own wounds may be healed now, but he wasn't sure about Draco's. Draco's scars weren't visible on his body, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

Yet, Draco smiled and blushed a delicate shade of pink as Kingsley kissed his hand. He made flirtatious eye contact too and his free hand began to caress Kingsley's chest, moving lower slowly, as though he were testing how far he was allowed to go.

Kingsley kissed him lightly on the lips once more, which gave way to further deep kisses.

Draco found he liked being able to move between passionate kisses and grasping embraces, to talking to one another and gently checking that the other person was ok. It was a totally new concept to him and it was very reassuring. But now he was lost in Kingsley's kisses again, they were sweeter than he had ever imagined kisses could be! Never too hard, not aggressive, but strong enough to let Draco know just how much Kingsley wanted him. Draco wanted Kingsley too, more and more with each moment of contact between them. He could feel Kingsley's cock, large and rock hard against him, and he wanted to touch it. He wondered if this was allowed?

 _Voldemort had rarely let him touch his cock. Draco had to be open to being touched anywhere and everywhere by the Dark Lord, on demand, but had rarely been allowed to touch back. It had been as though Draco were nothing more than a tactile object to be explored at will. Sometimes he had been able to get away with a little touching but usually not for long. If they were face to face, he had been allowed to hold onto Voldemort's shoulders, he was never discouraged from doing this, as it showed he wanted him. He'd been allowed to touch Voldemort's chest too, although never skin to skin as Voldemort never removed his robes. However, he had never really been allowed to touch Voldemort's cock. Partly because Voldemort was paranoid it was a ploy to get him to finish more quickly and partly because he felt it gave Draco some kind of power over him, if he could potentially make him climax that way. Draco was never supposed to have any power over him. The fact that Voldemort would sometimes lay uncomfortably still for hours on end so as not to disturb Draco when he was sleeping... did that count as 'power'? Voldemort had never been sure if it did or not. But the important thing was, no one knew about it, not even the boy himself._

Draco worked his hand down to Kingsley's crotch and tentatively trailed his fingers over his dark curly pubic hair. Kingsley didn't stop him. Draco gently wrapped his fingers around Kingsley's thick cock, glancing down at it as he did so. It was hard to say, as he had rarely been able to touch Voldemort like this, but he would have guessed that Kingsley was a little larger than Voldemort and Draco felt a little bit afraid that this would mean that sex hurt more. That would be a shame, as he wanted sex now more than he had ever done before. This was definitely about more than just being lonely, this was about real, burning desire.

Draco slowly caressed Kingsley's cock, with little experience to draw on, he touched him in the way he himself wanted to be touched: Slowly, teasingly.

'Mmmmm... That's good baby, that's good!' Kingsley whispered in Draco's ear in between nibbling kisses along his neck.

Draco blushed and grinned, liking being called 'baby'. He also very much liked that Kingsley wasn't stopping him from touching freely.

Knowing he should return the favour, Kingsley ran his hand down Draco's body to his perfectly smooth crotch. Draco was silky and delicious to touch. He was small but perfectly formed, delicate and dainty. His cock was hard and desperate for touch. Draco gasped out loud as Kingsley's hand took hold of him and began to work the length of his shaft, flicking over the head with his thumb.

Draco whimpered with pleasure and shifted his body closer, resting his head on Kingsley's shoulder, his face against his neck, shivering with delight as he felt Kingsley's free hand move slowly down his back and caress over his ass cheeks once again. Draco nuzzled against his neck enthusiastically as if to encourage him without quite being confident enough for words. He'd been oh so confident at the start as he had lead his new lover to the bedroom and undressed for him. However, since that point everything had been so different that he felt like he no longer knew the game he was playing. One thing he did know, was that he liked this new game a whole lot better than the old one.

Kingsley read the signs and smiled, half laughing.

'You're very keen there, aren't you?' He grinned affectionately, tracing his fingers lightly over Draco's asshole.

Draco blushed and giggled and nodded.

Kingsley thought perhaps he should ask if Draco was ok with lubrication charms, as some people weren't keen on them, but he stopped himself. Draco may not know, he may never have experienced one before and if that was the case it was probably best not to raise the subject and risk upsetting him. He wordlessly cast the spell and pressed the tip of his index finger inside Draco.

Draco **was** familiar with these charms, he knew them well. Voldemort had always used them. It had been part of his promise not to hurt Draco. Draco didn't know sex any other way and he was well prepared for penetration when Kingsley breached his hole with his thick finger.

Draco didn't feel any discomfort at all as Kingsley slipped the full length inside him. He moaned with pleasure and pushed the weight of his body back onto Kingsley's hand enthusiastically. It felt so good to be with someone again! It felt amazing to be with someone he felt safe with and someone who he really wanted to be with! Physical need, combined with emotional longing combined with pure, genuine, animalistic lust made for an intoxicating mix of emotions. Draco was overwhelmed. He arched his back and pushed down onto Kingsley's hand again.

'You like that?' The minister whispered playfully, delighted by Draco's enthusiasm.

'Yeah...' Draco gasped happily.

Kingsley drew his finger almost all the way out.

'How about this...?' He asked as he pushed two fingers up inside Draco, opening him up a little more and allowing himself to reach deeper.

Draco gave a rapturous cry as Kingsley reached his prostate with his long middle finger. Kingsley smiled and kissed the side of Draco's face. He continued to stimulate Draco's prostate, delighted he had so quickly found the place that drove him wild.

Draco's head flopped back and he whimpered almost deliriously, holding onto Kingsley as tightly as he could, one hand still caressing his cock, although it was fair to say, Draco was too distracted by his own pleasure to concentrate on this properly now.

'Oh, Gods... Yes...' Draco half sobbed, finding some words at last, although they hardly did justice to how he felt.

Kingsley smiled and continued to pleasure him and to kiss him affectionately. At last he whispered,

'Do you want to take this further, baby? Are you ready to?'

The response that went through Draco's mind was something along the lines of _'Oh, dear Gods, yes! Fuck yes! I was ready the moment you walked in the door!'_ This could have seemed a little too needy, and fortunately all the response he was capable of giving was;

'Uh hu...' Accompanied by an enthusiastic nod of his head.

Kingsley smiled and drew his fingers out of him. He lifted Draco off his lap. He was strong enough to lift him easily, and he placed him on the bed, reclining him on his back and he loomed over him.

For a split second, Draco looked afraid. In truth it was more nervousness than real fear but Kingsley backed off a little.

'Lie back and relax, baby.' He said softly.

Draco wanted to show him he was not afraid and that he wanted Kingsley close. So he did as he was instructed and held on to Kingsley's arms, pulling him nearer again as he lay back.

Kingsley leant down and kissed his lips once more.

'Gods, you're beautiful!' He exclaimed as he swept Draco's hair back from his face.

Confused and astonished, Draco shook his head disbelievingly. How on earth could someone as handsome and magnificent as Kingsley Shacklebolt think **he** was beautiful?

'Yes, you are!' Kingsley insisted firmly.

Draco didn't argue. Not because he believed it, but because he was too distracted to disagree when Kingsley reached down and lifted his hips up off the mattress, ready to penetrate him. Draco arched his back purposefully, taking most of his own weight to make it easier.

Kingsley moved close between his legs, determined to be very careful with this precious little creature. He didn't know, or want to know, the details of the experiences that Draco had had before this. There had been enough surprises already, like the fact that Draco had never seen another person naked before. All Kingsley wanted to be sure of was that it was sufficiently different between Draco and him than it had been between Draco and Voldemort. Preferably significantly better too. So he focused on doing all the things he imagined that Voldemort wouldn't have done. Saying kind words, giving lots of affectionate kisses, letting Draco do exactly what he wanted, being gentle with him when it was needed. Perhaps he could even consider this some kind of healing process for Draco? That would certainly help to appease any guilt he had about it. The concept worked in his mind, but he wasn't sure he'd like to try to explain it to anyone else!

Kingsley took hold of his own cock and cast another lubrication spell before he angled it at Draco's asshole. He pushed inside slowly, opening Draco's tight little ring and filling his passage with his thick, meaty cock.

Both Kingsley and Draco gasped with pleasure. Draco, amazed that he felt no pain at all, and yes, Kingsley was larger than he was used to, felt happier and more complete than he had in his life. Kingsley was blown away at just how perfect Draco felt around him. So hot, so tight gripping his cock in his ass, but with no tension in his body. Draco relaxed perfectly into sex and clearly liked the feeling as much as Kingsley did.

Kingsley drew back and drove into Draco slowly, savouring the sensation, maximising it for both of them. They simply concentrated on the new feeling, basking in delight at just how well they united together. Physically so different yet perfect together.

On the verge of losing himself in pleasure as he slowly drilled the pretty little boy beneath him, Kingsley remembered his intentions to focus on Draco's pleasure and he lowered himself down over him and seized his lips with his own.

This was heaven, Draco thought, and he wondered what had he ever done to deserve something that felt so good? Surely, there was nothing in the world that could feel as hot and amazing as having Kingsley's skilled lips kissing him intensely while his thick hard cock was buried deep in his ass? He gripped Kingsley tightly, he lightly scratched his nails across his back in a way which made Kingsley shiver with delight.

Draco didn't want to appear too passive and like he didn't know what he was doing. He was already a little embarrassed that he had let his mask of confidence slip a couple of times. He was damn good at sex, he was damn good at pleasing people... Or so he had thought. Although it was as nice to know that not everyone wanted to be 'pleased' in the same way Voldemort did. It was also a little unsettling. Draco was far keener to make a good impression on Kingsley than he ever had been with Voldemort, but he found himself a little unsure of just what to do. One thing he did know however was that he didn't want to seem too naive and inexperienced. Already conscious of the age gap between them, he didn't want to put Kingsley off him by seeming like a child!

Draco took his chance as they writhed against each other. Kingsley thrust into Draco over and over again and Draco managed, despite Kingsley's weight and strength, to work his way on top. This really was totally new to him and fortunately he fell into the rhythm of it instinctively and easily.

It was Kingsley's turn to lie back and relax now as adorable little Draco rode him like a wild Hippogriff, bucking his hips and sliding up and down on Kingsley's cock, moaning and gasping with pleasure as he did so. Draco could take the whole impressive length of Kingsley's cock inside him, and when he felt the head press against his prostate he cried out in delight. Kingsley smiled.

'Awww, you're good, baby!' Kingsley sighed as he reached for Draco's hand.

They interlocked fingers and gripped each other tightly, Draco using Kingsley's hand as a support. One hand free, Kingsley reached for Draco's cock. He was unsure if Draco could climax from penetration alone, although he rather suspected he could. He decided to help him out, none the less. He grinned at Draco as he began to tug on his cock, loving the way the boy gasped, eyes wide with pleasure and delight.

Draco cried out. He was going to get there pretty soon. Between the intense stimulation in his ass and the caresses to his cock his climax was upon him almost right away. His whole body tensed as he came in rapid spurts all over Kingsley's hand and his chest. Draco felt a little embarrassed about it but was too light headed to really care. He slowed his thrusts, panting breathlessly.

Draco satisfied, Kingsley then became acutely aware of his own needs. Now that Draco had come, he desperately needed to as well. It was little effort for him to take hold of Draco and flip him over onto his back, where he was then able to get on top of him and really drill him hard. Kingsley thrust back inside him and ploughed Draco's ass, assertively driving his hips forward and pulling back again, fucking Draco like his life depended on it. Draco could take it hard, he was crying out only in pleasure.

It wasn't too much. Yes Kingsley was a little rough now, but not too rough, not rough in any way that Draco didn't enjoy. Draco gripped Kingsley tightly with his thighs as Kingsley drilled him, lasting only a short time before, with a deep groan, he came. He thrust in hard, pumping his come deep inside Draco's tight ass. Draco trembled with renewed pleasure as he felt Kingsley's cock pulse inside him, filling him with his fluid. It felt incredible and oh so hot and left them both breathless for several moments, recovering from the adrenalin rush.

Being careful not to squash Draco under his body weight, Kingsley flopped over to one side of him but quickly wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, squeezing him tightly.

'Damn! That was good, Draco!' He uttered softly and breathlessly, blown away by just how amazing it had been.

Draco, panting, simply nodded, disorientated again by the intense hug after such great sex. It hadn't **never** happened that way with Voldemort, but it hadn't happened often.

It was a little while before they felt inclined to move and during that time, Kingsley was frantically trying to decide what he should do now, what was for the best? His good intentions had gone out of the window the moment he had seen Draco naked. They had done what they had done, and frankly it had been fantastic. However, Draco had offered it to him as 'rent' and Kingsley wasn't too sure just how serious that was. Had it just been a flirty joke or was that really how Draco saw this arrangement? Should he approach the subject? Should he tell Draco that it didn't have to be about rent at all...?

Then he thought back to Draco's trial. He remembered how Draco had talked about being comfortable with seeing Voldemort once a week and having his own space in-between. He remembered Draco telling them how frightened he became when Voldemort became more possessive and didn't allow him his freedom... Perhaps a 'rent' arrangement like this was all Draco could cope with at the moment? Perhaps this arrangement was enough to satisfy him so that he wouldn't rush out and end up with someone who would take advantage of him, particularly while he had no money or home?

Kingsley sat up at last. This was Draco's apartment and he should let him have his space again. He reached for his robes.

Draco watched him. He wanted to reach out and grab his arm, pull him back into bed, ask him not to leave... But he was desperate not to to appear childish and needy, so he simply watched him for a while and composed himself. Cool and collected, at last Draco spoke.

'So... is the rent weekly?' He asked in a flirtatious tone.

It **sounded** like Draco was suggesting this because he was happy with it, so Kingsley decided to follow his lead.

'It's as often as you like!' He smiled, and stroked Draco's hair. 'But weekly works for me.' He grinned, standing up, now fully dressed and ready to leave.

Draco smiled and he put on his dressing gown. He would walk Kingsley to the door at least. He would say goodbye at the front door. Draco was battling with his emotions... _'Don't get too involved! Don't let yourself fall for him! He won't feel the same way you know!'_ Draco told himself frantically. However, he knew already that he couldn't bear to lie in the bed and simply listen as he left and closed the door behind him. 


	8. Chapter 8

He shouldn't have left. He should have stayed with Draco, but it was only once he found himself outside, walking down the street in the dusky twilight that Kingsley reached this conclusion. No matter how much Draco might value and need his space, it was never really very nice to be screwed and then abandoned moments afterwards. Kingsley would very happily have stayed with him. He would have been glad to hold him, to talk to him and generally be there for him afterwards. He would happily have stayed all night if Draco would have allowed it. Perhaps he should have asked? He wondered to himself and he walked more briskly, feeling uncomfortable and as though he were being watched and judged for what he had just done. He quickened his step and told himself to stop being paranoid.

He definitely should have asked Draco if he could stay the night. However, Draco, clearly keen to please, and possibly feeling like he simply had to do as he was told, would probably have agreed if it were requested, regardless of weather he wanted it to happen or not. Perhaps Kingsley should have asked Draco not _'can I stay the night...?'_ but _'would you like me to stay...?'_ It was too late now. Kingsley had done exactly what he was afraid he was going to do. He had gone to Draco's apartment, fucked him, then left him with a promise that he would return in a week for more of the same.

It was unforgivable and Kingsley hated himself for it. If anyone ever found out, well, he would have to resign as minister for magic, he was sure of it. He had taken advantage of a poor, vulnerable boy, a boy who was still recovering from the trauma of what he had experienced. Draco had only just been freed from the clutched of the Dark Lord, and now he, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the minister for magic, was luring Draco into further abuse! What damage would this be doing to Draco's self esteem? Voldemort had thought him only good for one thing, and now this would be the message he was getting from Kingsley too. He had made such a good recovery while he was in hospital and now further damage was being inflicted on him. It was inexcusable and unforgivable!

Kingsley sighed crossly, tensing his fists angrily. The worst of it was, he actually really liked Draco! It seemed crazy as he hardly knew him, but there was a spark there, a real connection. Draco was clearly emotionally damaged by his experiences and was insecure as a result, but there were still signs of his real character which showed themselves from time to time: His wicked sense of humour for example, was one of the first things Kingsley had noticed about him. His intelligence too, his sense of pride at having taught himself to read Latin. His understanding of magical law. His resilience and his strength for survival. The fact he had not let his experiences destroy him. He was really quite special, Kingsley thought. And he was beautiful too. Incredibly beautiful. Cute. Adorable. Like a perfect little doll. Plus, the sex had been fantastic. It had been a little nervous and timid, first times with a new partner often are, but still it had been mind blowing. Physically, they just **worked** together, and that was hard to ignore. The more Kingsley thought about it, the more he liked Draco, and the worse it seemed that he had done what he had done.

Back at the apartment, Draco sat on the floor in the hallway, leaning back against the door which he had closed and locked behind Kingsley when he left. Draco sat there for some time, feeling confused more than anything else, as he stared at the peach coloured roses trying to work out why anyone would buy flowers for a whore.

Perhaps it was simply another odd, "meant-to-be-kind" gesture? Draco was used to those! It was the sort of odd, "kind" gesture Voldemort made when he drugged Draco with potions so that he wouldn't feel bored and lonely. Bringing Draco a huge bunch of beautiful flowers so that he wouldn't feel so used and worthless at having to be fucked in place of rent money, it was the same kind of thing, wasn't it?

At last, Draco got up from the floor and went to look more closely at the flowers. He smelled them. He pursed his lips tightly as the soft petals brushed across his face. They were very beautiful, but surely, they couldn't mean that Kingsley actually **liked** him?

Draco showered and washed himself thoroughly. He had to try to put the experience from his mind and forget about it over the coming week. He ordered a house elf to change all of the bedding, but it didn't really help. The moment he lay down to try and sleep, he instantly thought about Kingsley... The touch of his hand, the scent of his skin the feeling of his cock deep inside him...

Kingsley had a hard time too, trying not to think about Draco, no matter how busy he tried to keep himself over the weekend. Even work on Monday couldn't distract him properly. He had pleasant day dreams as he remembered the delights of being with his little lover, and moments of secret guilt as he thought about the emotional damage he might have done by leaving him. It was no good, he would have to try to put right what had happened. It was hard to concentrate on the many important things at work which should have demanded his full attention.

Draco in turn, tried to keep himself busy through the week. He extensively practiced magic with the wand he was happiest with. He spent more and more time sitting out on the roof terrace of the apartment, enjoying having outside space and fresh air, until at last, on Wednesday, he braved going out into London for a walk.

Draco had kept up with the news reports in the various wizarding newspapers and magazine as they had reported his discovery. He had been quite relieved to see that it hadn't caused the level of interest it could have done. There were other prisoners that had been discovered, kept for many different reasons. Draco's name was reported alongside theirs. His was made slightly more notable as the Daily Prophet had of course mentioned the destruction of his home and confirmed that the ministry was in negotiations with him to agree a generous settlement of compensation, in light of his innocence and his unfortunate circumstances.

All in all, Draco was able to walk down the streets drawing little more than a few glances as people recognised him. A few people nodded politely at him, which seemed to confirm they didn't think him a death eater or sympathiser. Some remarked in hushed whispers how unwell and traumatised he looked. Draco caught sight of himself in a shop window. They were right. Being outside in the big wide world made him nervous and frightened, and it showed. He concluded his walk and hurried back to the safety of the apartment. He'd been out less than an hour, but it was a huge step.

Draco focused on the 'self care' tips that Miriam Merryweather had given him, although there were moments when he wished he could go back to St Mungos to talk to her again. Perhaps he could have told her about what happened between minister Shacklebolt and him? But then again, perhaps not. He was fairly sure the minister wouldn't want anyone to know he had sunk so low as to fuck the Dark Lord's cast off!

Draco tried to push all of the hurting feelings deep, deep down. It wasn't one of the techniques he'd been told to use, but he knew from past experience it would work. He had to concentrate on getting better and healing the trauma of the past. He didn't have the capacity to deal with this new, fresh angst at the same time. He followed healer Merryweather's advice to the letter:

He ate whenever he felt hungry, whatever food he wanted most. This was easy because he just had to ask the house elves and they would provide it. It was a bit like when he was a child, and he fell back into the habit without too much difficulty.

He tried not to fall asleep in the day. He made himself get up at 8am, and tried to be in bed by 11pm, keeping a routine to make himself feel motivated and functional. He got dressed and made sure he was well presented every day too, only lounging in a dressing gown in the evening after he had bathed.

He bathed and showered, somewhat excessively, in fact. He was sure that healer Merryweather would discourage it if she knew. She would probably limit him to one bath or shower per day instead of the 2 or 3 he often took. He tried to limit himself. A shower in the morning. A bath at night. Otherwise it might become obsessive

He created a schedule for himself, but allowed himself to be flexible too. Hours for reading, for magic practice, time to write a journal. He had found parchment and quills in the apartment and tried, each day, to write something down about how he felt. It wasn't always easy. It felt a bit too raw so he took to writing made up stories instead. Short, snippets and scenarios which helped him, in a roundabout way, to deal with the hurt he felt.

He wrote about a charming young couple, a man and a woman who met and fell in love. He wrote a beautiful, romantic description of their wedding. The woman became pregnant and they had a child, a boy. The baby died after a couple of days, and Draco described how it's spirit ascended to the rafters in the roof of the house and watched it's parents grieving. It was a strange story, but somehow it helped Draco to deal with the loss of his parents without having to open the wound so wide as to write about them directly.

Draco had read enough traditional fairy tales to write one of his own. A beautiful princess was kidnapped by a demon who kept her prisoner, chained in a dungeon in the middle of a forest, where he used her. Over time, the monster came to trust her to be unchained. Over time she went to him willingly. She cooked and cleaned for him. She wondered in the woods and returned, bringing him flowers. In the end a prince came to rescue the princess. He battled the demon, killing him in front of the princesses eyes...

Draco didn't know how to end that story. Did the princess marry the prince, or did she kill him? Perhaps, in grief and confusion, she killed herself? Draco couldn't decide, so he burnt the entire manuscript.

It didn't matter really if he burnt it. It was simply the process of writing that helped him. However, Draco was often pedantic about his words and language, wanting the text to flow well, to be poetic, even if no one would ever read it. It was part of the cathartic process for him, being able to make the stories, however sad or disturbing, sound beautiful.

Draco could lose hours and hours to writing and found that the days passed quickly. He found himself regularly losing himself in a deeply erotic tale about a lost and helpless young wizard who was taken as a servant by a powerful but kind centaur. Draco described the strong, dark centaur, large and dominant, making gentle love to his young servant boy. He wrote in every intimate detail the sensual exploration between them, the contrast of their bodies and the way they came together perfectly in forbidden love that the rest of the world would frown upon. It was a very explicit, yet very beautiful story, but Draco would have been deeply embarrassed if anyone ever read it! He concluded he must have been inspired by the statue downstairs, what else could it be?

However focused Draco had been though the week, when Friday arrived, he found it hard to concentrate on anything. Minister Shacklebolt was going to come round that evening 'to collect the rent'. Draco decided he was allowed to have 3 washes today. His morning shower, his evening bath, and an additional bath in the afternoon as he made himself ready to be fucked again.

He felt strange as he allowed his body to sink into the hot water. He felt excited in a way that wasn't simply about the thought of having sex again. He pictured Kingsley clearly in his mind and he felt butterflies in his stomach. He could hardly wait to see him, for real! Partly for the sex, but partly for the closeness, the hugging, before and afterwards... And those kisses too! Draco tried hard not to let his feelings run away with him. However lovely and kind and forgiving minister Shacklebolt was, he certainly wasn't going to be prepared to get seriously involved with someone like Draco Malfoy! Draco reminded himself the last thing he needed, was to develop a real crush on the handsome, sexy, wonderful and completely unobtainable minister for magic. Although he began to fear it may already be too late!

The apartment was well equipped for almost all Draco's needs, although there was a distinct lack of clothes that fitted him well, and there was certainly no lingerie type garments for him to play with. Once he was clean shaven and smelling sweet after his bath, Draco began to consider what he could wear to feel 'in character' when the Minister arrived. He decided he would go for a slightly different look today.

He put on the tight fitted trousers which were part of his set of robes. He neglected to fasten the top button and he didn't put on a shirt. He remained barefooted and he wet his hair slightly so that he looked a little dishevelled. He used a charm to shadow his eyes so that they looked dark and smoky. With his thin, angular body and fragile looking paleness, this was a look that worked for him. He could have been a rock star or an actor in a sexy photo shoot. He looked polished yet scruffy, perfectly clean, yet somehow a little dirty too. It was a good look for him and it certainly helped him get into the mindset for sex.

Kingsley arrived at the apartment at 6pm, determined to talk to Draco. He wanted to clarify that no 'rent' was necessary for the apartment. He wanted to be clear with Draco that he both respected and liked him, and didn't want to use him. He was planning to suggest that perhaps they should slow things right down and simply talk to each other over a coffee this evening.

Draco opened the apartment door, looking every bit like a high class escort or perhaps a fetish model, and Kingsley was suddenly lost for words. Good intentions evaporated like morning mist in the rising sun. Draco said nothing, trying to read emotions from the minister. It wasn't easy, but the look on his face told Draco everything he needed to know. It was obvious. Kingsley wanted him, right now.

Draco shut the door and he and Kingsley faced each other. For a few tense seconds they stared at each other, both trying to think of something they should say. Draco's eyes smouldered with desire and he burned inside with pure need. Kingsley stared at him. His bare chest, his trousers, temptingly unfastened and delightfully figure hugging. His smoky eyes and messy hair sending a message that he was very much ready for a sexual encounter. He had made himself ready, clearly. He had taken time to make himself look like this. That meant he wanted it, surely it did? He wasn't being forced to do it, he **wanted** to.

It was a matter of moments before, in unison, they pounced onto each other, desire over taking the last shreds of reason.

Kingsley was only mildly annoyed with himself for his lack of self control for a second week in a row, because it really did seem like Draco wanted this as much as he did. It couldn't be all that wrong, could it?

Draco flung himself into Kingsley's strong arms, having to stand on the very tips of his toes to be able to reach his lips to kiss him. Kingsley leant down to meet Draco's mouth, and, holding each other tightly they kissed and caressed each other as thought their lives depended on it. Hungry, desperate kisses spoke louder than any words they could have found. Draco opened his mouth, let Kingsley's tongue explore him, sucked teasingly at Kingsley's lips. Kingsley kissed him almost mercilessly, consumed with desire for pretty little Draco. How on earth had he ever planned to resist this?

Pressed up against him, Kingsley could feel Draco's cock was hard already and suddenly, right in the moment, Draco didn't seem like a vulnerable young boy at all! He was confident, sexy and passionate; and taking him to bed seemed like the most natural and right thing in the world.

Draco didn't have to lead the way this time. This time, Kingsley took matters into his hands and he swept Draco up off his feet and into his arms and carried him down the hallway to the grand bedroom. Draco gave an excited, playful little scream as he was lifted up, feeling totally thrilled. Any angst he had felt through the week seemed completely forgotten!

Kingsley flung Draco onto the huge, soft bed and he knelt on the floor in front of him. Those half fastened trousers would be easy enough to remove! Kingsley grinned at Draco playfully as he reached for the fastening and undid the next button. Draco smiled back at him, and he lifted his hips a little, allowing Kingsley to pull the trousers down and remove them completely. Draco's cock sprang free, rock hard and eager for attention!

Draco felt puzzled for a moment as Kingsley ran his large hands slowly down Draco's body, resting them on his hip bones. He stayed kneeling on the floor... He was looking at Draco's hard cock... Surely, he wasn't going to...?

Kingsley smiled and glanced up at Draco's face and then back down at his pretty little dick.

'Hell! You're so cute!' He whispered.

Draco blushed and giggled shyly. He'd never thought about it that way before.

Kingsley's hand gripped the base of Draco's cock and Draco shuddered with anticipation, the touch sending a ripple of pleasure through him. He had been waiting all week for this, however much he had tried to pretend he wasn't!

'So, so cute!' Kingsley whispered, his face so near to Draco's cock that Draco could feel his breath. He whimpered with desire, not quite believing Kingsley would ever touch it with his mouth!

'Your cock's like a pretty pink candy stick.' Kingsley grinned. 'I've just gotta taste you, baby!'

Draco almost couldn't believe what was happening as Kingsley lowered his thick, sensual lips to Draco's cock and took the head into his mouth and sucked greedily. His tongue exploring all around the ridge, he flicked over the slit from time to time, driving Draco crazy.

Draco gasped as the sweet sensations washed over him and rendered him speechless. He gripped the bedclothes in his fists. He didn't close his eyes, instead he watched Kingsley, utterly taken back by what he was doing. No one had ever, ever done this to him before! It was utterly mind blowing and unlike any pleasure he could describe.

It was not just the physical satisfaction of the experience, the intense, wet heat, the sensual softness of it. It was also the simple fact that someone was actually prepared to pleasure him in this way, that they had **chosen** to do this. Why, Draco wondered, would anyone be prepared to do this for a filthy whore?

The thought didn't trouble him for long as he lost himself in pure ecstasy as Kingsley took the whole length of his cock into his mouth, sucking harder and harder.

Kingsley was enjoying himself almost as much as Draco was. Draco was just so delightful in every way. His cock was just the perfect mouthful, just the right challenge to take it all in, but perfectly smooth and lovely when he did. He could eat him all day, he really could!

However gratifying it was to watch Draco squirm with delight and listen to him breathlessly gasp with pleasure, it was not Kingsley's only desire. He desperately wanted to fuck him. He had spent all week chastising himself for having slept with Draco, but now they were together again he was powerless to fight the fact that he was going to do it again. And it didn't seem wrong. It seemed like the most 'right' thing in the world.

Draco's body was tense and his rapid breathing told Kingsley he was getting close. Kingsley decided to stop, not wanting it all to be over too quickly for Draco, and desperately wanting to be inside him, to fuck him while he was so desperately aroused. If Draco was already so close it would be a good time to see if he could take him over the edge simply by fucking him. It would be so good to feel Draco come while he was inside him!

Draco gasped almost with relief when Kingsley moved his mouth away from his cock. Although he missed the sensation, he didn't mind if it meant that Kingsley was at last going to fuck him. He expected Kingsley to get onto the bed, he waited for a second in anticipation, but Kingsley stayed on the floor.

Kingsley took hold of Draco's hands and gently pulled him down, encouraging him onto the floor as well. Draco was obedient and biddable, he allowed Kingsley to lead him, moving as he was encouraged to do, onto his hands and knees. Kingsley positioned himself close behind him, one hand caressing Draco's back with affectionate strokes. Draco flicked his hair and glanced back at Kingsley with a smouldering expression, lips parted, eyes sparkling. He knew how to do this very well!

'Fuck! You're sexy!' Kingsley whispered as he slipped his fingers between Draco's cheeks, casting a lubrication charm as he did so.

Draco smiled and gave a needy little moan, encouraging Kingsley, letting him know there was no need to take his time today. Kingsley needed no encouragement, he'd been longing for this! He hastily flung back his robes, grasped his cock and drove it into Draco, who yelped with pleasure.

Gods! It was every bit as good as it had been the last time! Draco was hot, his ring was tight yet he yielded to Kingsley's thrusts, allowing him to penetrate as deeply as he could. Kingsley rutted Draco from behind, slowly at first but getting faster and harder, pounding his prostate, pushing Draco to his limits.

There was something hot and exciting about doing it on the floor, although Draco accepted he would have some lethal carpet burns afterwards. However it was thrilling to him as he had never done it anywhere other than in bed before. This felt spontaneous and ever so passionate, as if they both needed it so much there wasn't even time to get into bed!

Kingsley's strong hands gripped Draco's thin hip bones tightly, holding him firmly, holding him still, bracing him for each thrust.

'Oh Gods!' Draco yelped helplessly. 'Gods, that's so good!' He cried as Kingsley's cock hammered his sweet spot. At this rate it wouldn't be long before he climaxed.

'Damn right, it's good baby!' Kingsley replied. 'You feel amazing!'

It was no lie. Draco's enthusiasm, his willingness, his enjoyment of the whole experience was as addictive to Kingsley as the physical sensation itself. He drilled Draco hard in the ass with fast, forceful thrusts almost losing his self control to the gratification of fucking this adorable boy.

Draco's breathing was unsteady. He was very close.

'Are you gonna come for me, baby?' Kingsley whispered seductively.

Draco whimpered in response unable to form proper words. Kingsley felt his body tense as his climax approached.

'That's right baby, come for me.' He whispered. 'Come for Daddy!'

The words alone were enough to take Draco over the edge and he gave a loud cry as he reached orgasm while Kingsley fucked him.

Gods, he was perfect! Draco was perfect. He could come simply from a deep hard pounding, he didn't even need contact with his cock. It was wonderful. There was nothing Kingsley liked better than a lover who really enjoyed being screwed. If there was one thing Kingsley liked it was giving out a damn good fucking.

His own climax was not far behind Draco's and with a few more deep thrusts into Draco's ass he reached his limit. He filled Draco with his come, groaning as he shot his load into Draco's tight passage. He milked every last thrust as he pumped his seed into him, savouring the sweet moment of bliss.

Kingsley rested, panting. Eventually he pulled out of Draco and sat back. Draco sat up onto his heels and Kingsley took him in his arms and pulled him into his lap, kissing him on the cheek.

'Merlin's beard! You're good, Draco!' He whispered breathlessly.

Draco flopped back against Kingsley's chest and remained quite still, feeling his lovers heart beat, the rise and fall of his breathing. Kingsley's strong protective arms enveloped him. He closed his eyes for a moment. It was very intimate. Draco could have stayed that way for ever.

But this was the last thing he needed, he reminded himself. The last thing he should do was get carried away with hugging and kissing and being held. The rent was paid now and it was time for him to get back to reality. Assertively he pulled away from Kingsley's embrace, not daring to stay a moment longer and risk falling any deeper.

He reached for a dressing gown and pulled it about himself, and Kingsley, looking a little puzzled and disappointed, fastened his own robes.

'Same time next week?' Draco said, casually, coldly.

Kingsley stood up.

'Yes, if that suits you.' He replied awkwardly. 'If that's what you want.'

He should have said more but he struggled to find the words, struggled to know where to begin. He didn't want to push Draco if this was all he wanted, all he felt comfortable with, but he himself wanted so much more.

Draco only smiled in response.

Kingsley felt rather uncomfortable as he left the bedroom. As he walked down the corridor he desperately wanted to think of something to say to stop the encounter from ending this way. But was that selfish of him? Did Draco simply want his space again now that the deed was done? He needed to talk to Draco about this, but if Draco wanted space now, then this was not the right time.

He paused at the door and looked back at Draco who had followed him.

'Goodnight, Draco baby.' He said softly, stroking Draco's face with a tender caress.

'Goodnight minister.' Draco replied, with just enough emotion in his voice for Kingsley to feel a rush of empathy and kindness towards him.

He might be drawing a line in the sand now and demanding his space, but it seemed it wasn't because he didn't like being with Kingsley. They needed to talk about it, certainly, but for now Kingsley thought he should leave, if it was what Draco wanted. It was about respecting Draco's boundaries, wasn't it?

Kingsley gave Draco a fleeting kiss on the forehead and left the apartment.

It was now quite dark outside in the street and Kingsley felt a chill sweep over him as he stepped out of the building and made towards the side alleyway for the quickest route home. He cursed himself under his breath. He had left Draco **again** , which he hadn't wanted to do. He felt guilty and uncomfortable, just as he had done when he left last week. He felt conspicuous and as though he were leaving the scene of a crime, hoping to be undetected.

'Picking up where the Dark Lord left off, are you, minister?' A dark, yet familiar voice came from the shadows.

Kingsley jumped and spun round, his senses suddenly alert.

'Aarion!' He gasped in surprise. 'I thought you were in Albania?'

'Yes, that was a rather clever ploy of yours.' Aarion continued, stepping forward confrontationally, wand raised. 'Send me to Albania to get me out of the way. I believe you sent Tonks to France, is that right? I suppose it was always going to be easier if he had no one else to turn to.'

'Aarion, please, it's not like that.' Kingsley implored his once-friend.

'Isn't it?' Aarion asked sarcastically. 'What is it like, Kingsley? Do explain it to me. You send away any potential friends Draco might have. You take him to your apartment so you can keep him convenient. Then you make some kind of perverse arrangement to screw him once a week on a Friday. Was that to remind him of the arrangement he had with the Dark Lord, or was it just because it fitted in to your schedule?'

'How do you know I've been there every Friday?' Kingsley asked defensively.

'I was an auror, remember.' Aarion replied. 'I tracked you, followed you.'

Kingsley felt rather disconcerted by this. He had been an auror for many years too and should have known that someone was tracking him!

'Look, Aarion...' He began. 'I know it looks bad but it's not like that. I, I'm not using him. I actually really like him.'

'I don't doubt it!' Aarion laughed coldly. 'He's very lovely, isn't he? I'm sure you do like him, minister, but the question is, does he actually really like you? Or does he simply think he has to show gratitude to you?'

Kingsley was silent so Aarion continued.

'Maybe he does like you, Kingsley, who knows? But you did a pretty good job of making sure he never got the chance to find out if he liked anyone else.' He spat crossly.

'You mean, **you**?' Kingsley asked directly. 'You criticise me and accuse me of abusing Draco when really you're only angry because you wanted him for yourself. Tell me, Aarion, if you'd have had the chance would you have done anything different?'

'I certainly wouldn't have locked him up in a swanky apartment to make him feel like he had to somehow pay me for it!' Aarion exclaimed. 'And, yes, maybe that's because I don't **have** a swanky apartment just standing around empty waiting for me to use it. Not all ministry jobs have the same perks, do they?'

Kingsley tried not to look awkward and guilty. He and Aarion had started with the aurors at the same time, they had both progressed well and been successful. Only Kingsley had been slightly more so.

'I would have offered him a place to stay.' Aarion confessed. 'It would have been the couch in the spare room in my flat, but it would have been an honest offer, no strings attached. I would have sat with him in the evenings, talked to him, cooked dinner for him, been his friend. Yes, I would have wanted more but I would have let it happen naturally, let it develop over time, once we were on level ground and felt like equals. I would never have taken advantage of him while he was still so vulnerable.'

'I didn't force him into anything, I...' Kingsley began.

'And another thing!' Aarion spoke over him. 'I wouldn't keep him locked up there like some kind of dirty little secret!' He read the look of shock on Kingsley face. 'Yes, that's right!' He continued. 'I would be happy and proud to walk down the street with him, hand in hand. Would you do that, minister? Would you take him to an event at the ministry? I doubt it!' Aarion scoffed. 'Would you, the great Kingsley Shacklebolt, want to be seen to be in a relationship with the son of two convicted death eaters? I somehow doubt you would!'

Kingsley was speechless for a second. He felt like he had been stabbed in the stomach. Aarion, his old friend! How could he think and say such terrible things? It hurt Kingsley a great deal to hear it. Hurriedly he pulled himself together.

'Listen Aarion, whatever is happening between Draco Malfoy and me is actually none of your business, and I would appreciate it if you refrain from following me anymore or I will have to place you under a reprimand.'

Aarion laughed.

'Of course, minister Shacklebolt, sir.' He said sarcastically.

'I'm sorry.' Kingsley said sincerely. 'I didn't want it to be like this. I didn't plan it. I don't have to justify my actions to you, but as we have been friends a long time, I want you to know I didn't send you away on purpose. I didn't plan to act on my feelings for Draco, it just happened. I'm sorry, I really...'

'Save your breath.' Aarion snapped. 'It's not me you should say sorry to. It's that poor traumatised 17 year old boy you've just finished buggering who you should be apologising to. Don't worry, I won't give you any more trouble. I won't bother you again. After all, it's not me you need to make peace with, it's your own conscience. Goodbye Kingsley.'

With that Aarion appareated away in a cloud of white mist leaving a shocked and troubled Kingsley Shacklebolt alone in the dark alleyway, feeling shaken to the core.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco returned to the bedroom. It wasn't a clever idea, he could have gone to any other room instead. He should have gone to sit in the sitting room, or even the roof terrace and looked up at the stars, but he didn't. He wondered straight back to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, which was still immaculately tidy. He lay perfectly still, curled up on his side and very slowly one solitary tear rolled down his cheek and soaked into the pillow.

He was shivering, but he didn't pull the covers over himself, he simply lay still, his body aching almost as much as his heart. He trembled with more than cold as emotions he couldn't handle swept over him.

He missed Voldemort.

 _There had been very few times that Draco had been able to 'lie' to Voldemort. Voldemort was a master of legilimens and Draco, competent as he was, would never have been his match. However, there had been one time that Draco had managed to convince the Dark Lord he was sleeping when in fact he was not._

 _Voldemort had returned late. Draco had waited and waited for him, becoming more and more bored and lonely with each passing minute. He got crosser too. Why did Voldemort always leave him like this? Eventually Draco had become drowsy. It was the days before Voldemort had begun giving him potions, so sleepiness took a while. Draco drifted in and out of sleep, but when he heard voices downstairs he was suddenly wide awake. Despite being awake, Draco was in no mood to play to Voldemort's desires so he decided to guard him mind and just try to pretend he was sleeping._

 _Voldemort was distracted, many important developments had taken place that evening and when he went to the bedroom, his mind was not really on Draco at all. He glanced at the boy. Draco appeared to be sleeping. It didn't matter, let him sleep._

 _Voldemort sat down in the chair, musing on his battle plans. He glanced again at Draco. Draco was barely dressed and he had no blankets over him. Voldemort frowned. Draco needed to be warm, he had told him this once._

 _Slowly Voldemort stood up and moved over to the bed. Silently, he picked up the blanket and lay it over Draco. He stepped back and then paused. He stepped close again. With a sigh, he lent down and swept Draco's hair back from his face. Draco did not flinch or move, his skin felt very cold. Voldemort pulled the blanket up further around Draco's shoulders and tucked it around him. Then he cast the gentlest of warming charms over the sleeping boy. At last he stood back, looked at Draco for a moment, and then left the room, leaving him to sleep in peace._

 _Draco's heart hammered inside his chest. It had taken enormous effort not to shake with fear, confusion and exhilaration. It may have seemed like small and insignificant things from the outside, but between Draco and Voldemort, these simple actions were huge. Voldemort had been gentle and kind when he thought Draco would never know about it. However, Draco did know and suddenly the world had become stranger than ever._

In the penthouse apartment Draco sobbed into the pillow, longing for someone to come and cover him tenderly with a blanket, just as Voldemort had done that night. If only Kingsley had stayed! If only Draco had been able to relax and actually encourage him to stay! But someone like Kingsley Shacklebolt was never going to want to stay with some like Draco Malfoy, was he?

Draco sobbed harder and harder. It was worse. It was worse with Kingsley than it had ever been with Voldemort! Sure, the sex was better, more exciting, more satisfying and a whole lot nicer. But that was part of what made it worse, the fact that he wanted it more. The fact that he wanted Kingsley in ways he had never wanted Voldemort made the whole thing more painful. Draco knew he could all to easily fall in love with the handsome, kind and powerful minister for magic, but he was fairly certain there was no way on this earth that Kingsley would ever feel the same about a washed up little slut like him!

The situation made Draco feel dreadful about himself. His fragile self esteem crumbled further and further as he realised that if he **were** ever to be with Kingsley, then **he,** Draco, would be the bad one, the jaded one. He would be the one who people scorned and thought undeserving. When he had been with Voldemort, he had taken an odd sort of comfort in knowing that most people, perceiving his situation, would consider him a victim and the Dark Lord, a monster. Voldemort had been the bad one, and Draco, although no angel, had been the 'good' one who had been led astray. With Kingsley, it was different. Surely, anyone perceiving their situation from the outside would be furious at Draco, the dirty money grabbing whore, for trying to seduce the kind and good hearted minister for magic, and exploit him for his own gain?

It might not have been the truth of the matter, but Draco was convinced that was what people would see. Draco was fragile and insecure, more now than he had ever been, and people's opinions mattered to him. He didn't want to be hated. He didn't want to be the bad one.

He thought about Voldemort again. What was Voldemort, anyway? What had he really been to Draco? At worst he had been an abusive manipulator who forced Draco into sexual acts he wasn't willing to perform. An abuser who him prisoner, using him and pushing drugs onto him. But in the best case, Draco realised, he had simply been a selfish, misguided and emotionally inarticulate lover. He had cared for Draco in the most bizarre and ineffective ways. He had wanted to please Draco, and only sometimes stumbled upon actions which did please him, almost by accident. The two of them had never really connected, the whole situation had never really worked, certainly not for Draco anyway, but somehow Draco felt an odd sense of empathy for Voldemort now that he was gone.

Throughout the revelations of his trial, as puzzle pieces fell into place, Draco had been forced to realise that Voldemort **had** cared for him, in a fashion. He had not talked explicitly about it, but inside he grappled with the realisation that Voldemort **had** loved him but had simply never been able to express it.

Draco wondered just how much Voldemort must have been through in his young life to make him so utterly disturbed that the best offer of love he could muster was the burnt offering he presented to Draco? Now, in his post traumatic condition, Draco felt rather akin to Voldemort as he battled with so many conflicting feelings which he couldn't express or manage. Essentially, Voldemort had wanted to ask to be loved. However, he felt he couldn't ask for love as he considered himself too damaged and too far beyond redemption to receive it. Draco sobbed bitterly. That was exactly how **he** felt now.

Eventually, Draco pulled the blankets around his own shoulders, as no one was going to do it for him, and he cried quietly until he fell asleep.

Kingsley walked home quickly, crossly, Aarion's words going round and round in his head making him more and more furious with each step. How dare Aarion approach him and say all those terrible things? He had no right to cast judgement over Kingsley's relationship with Draco! And to not only imply, but actually say outright that Kingsley was using Draco in the same way the Dark Lord had done! It was a scandalous suggestion! Kingsley clenched his fists.

The trouble was, the angry feelings didn't get any better quickly. It was unlike Kingsley to bare a grudge, but he just couldn't shake Aarion's words and the plethora of negative emotions they had evoked from him. He had trouble sleeping that night. By Monday he felt even more angry and his anger was tinged with an unsettling confusion.

Of course he wasn't using Draco! **He** knew that. It was obvious to **him**. He really liked Draco, wanted to be with him, wanted to take care of him, if Draco would only allow it. But Aarion's words had made him think... Was it obvious to Draco that this was how Kingsley felt? If Aarion thought Kingsley was using him, perhaps that was what Draco thought too? Kingsley's stomach churned. He never wanted Draco to feel that way!

He had left him though. Twice. Twice he had abandoned Draco immediately after they had sex, and that was never a great thing to do. He had simply wanted to give Draco space, after all those months he had been a captive. That was Kingsley's rationale, but perhaps it had not been the right thing to do. If Draco **was** feeling used by him, how would he be able to repair the damage and make amends?

If he did manage to win Draco's trust and affection, where exactly would they go from there, Kingsley wondered, as more of Aarion's words resurfaced and troubled him again. _'You wouldn't walk down the street with him, take him to an event at the ministry...'_ Kingsley sighed crossly. How dare Aarion say that? Of course he would!

Wouldn't he?

Kingsley thought back to how the news of Draco's discovery had been reported and received. Draco's name had been reported among a list of several freed prisoners who had been kept alive by the Dark Lord. It had caused comparatively little stir. Draco had warranted a few more column inches in the papers as the issue of his land and estates was discussed. Fudge's statement to the press had diplomatically stated that Draco was to be offered a compensatory settlement for his lands and home. Generally, the public had reacted with a tone of slightly apathetic sympathy.

 _It wasn't the boy's fault, he could hardly help his family background after all. But he was the son of two convicted death eaters and the Malfoy family did need taking down a peg or two. However, he had suffered through his imprisonment and it was good that he hadn't lost everything and would be provided for._

The news spread far and wide, as all of the post-war headlines did. The world was falling into a new shape and order. Everyone wanted to keep up with everything that was happening.

The news of Draco being discovered alive had even reached the golden trio who were away at Auror training camp. It was Hermione who had spotted the name.

'Hey, look! They found Draco Malfoy!' She exclaimed over breakfast one morning.

'Alive?' Harry asked.

'Yes.' Hermione had replied.

'That's a pity!' Ron had remarked callously.

Hermione gave him a disdainful look. It wasn't nice to wish anyone dead, even if you didn't like them very much.

'Where was he?' Harry asked curiously.

'Hiding, I'll bet, the bloody coward!' Ron replied.

'No, it says he was the Dark Lord's prisoner.' Hermione read out loud:

 _'Amongst the prisoners found to have been detained by the Dark Lord, was 17 year old Draco Malfoy, the lost heir to the Malfoy estate. Mr Malfoy had been missing since the arrest of his parents, shortly before his 16th birthday. After months of searching by the Aurors, Mr Malfoy was presumed dead. Following the deaths of his parents in Azkaban prison, the Malfoy estate was taken into ministry possession for redevelopment._

 _Draco Malfoy was discovered at the ancestral home of the Dark Lord. The discovery was made by a team of Auror's led by Alastor Moody. Mr Malfoy was tried over 2 days and despite confessing to approaching the Dark Lord for help when his parents were arrested, he was cleared of all charges of illegal or death eater activity. Mr Malfoy described a frightening ordeal where he was locked up and was unsure why or for how long he would be kept alive. He believed it was his blood status which kept the Dark Lord from killing him. Mr Malfoy reflected that he was glad not to have been forced to fight for the Dark Lord as he does not support his ideology. Mr Malfoy also described instantly regretting going to the Dark Lord for help describing it as 'the actions of a foolish child'. Mr Malfoy was unaware of his parents deaths until this fact emerged during the trial. The council, presided over by minister Shacklebolt, found Mr Malfoy to be innocent and transferred him to St Mungos hospital where he was treated for physical and mental trauma as well as significant malnutrition. A financial settlement will be made to Mr Malfoy by the ministry of magic for a percentage of the value of his home.'_

'I almost feel sorry for him, actually.' Harry mused, taking a sip of coffee.

'I don't!' Ron snapped. 'He'll get a nice fat pay our from the ministry for his house and he spent the whole war safely locked away while the rest of us were out fighting and risking our lives.'

'I doubt he felt very 'safe' Ron.' Harry said calmly. 'OK, he was an idiot to go to Voldemort in the first place but, you know, he'd been brought up to be like that, hadn't he? To believe in that stuff and he'd never seen the reality of it. Sounds like he didn't find out what Voldemort was like until it was too late. Plus, finding out that his parents were dead must have been hard. There's no easy way to hear that.'

'I guess not.' Ron conceded. 'I wonder why he kept him alive though? What use would Malfoy be?'

'I guess blood status, like it says, and potentially for power and land...?' Hermione suggested. 'I'm surprised he admitted to going to Voldemort for help though. I would have thought he would have lied about that!' She thought aloud.

'Perhaps the ordeal has actually changed him for the better?' Harry offered.

'Perhaps he was questioned under Veritaserum?' Ron said flatly.

Harry laughed.

'Maybe.' He said. 'Anyway, if Mad-eye found him and Kingsley oversaw the trial, well, Malfoy must have been telling the truth. You can't fool those two too easily!'

'True.' Hermione agreed.

'Who else have they found?' Ron asked her, and the Malfoy conversation was over, becoming just another insignificant breakfast chat. After all, who was Draco Malfoy to them these days?

So Draco was neither liked nor particularly disliked in public opinion, but Aarion was right, there had been further speculation about him. Why **had** the Dark Lord kept Draco Malfoy alive? The other prisoners had more obvious uses, the Wand Maker, the Goblin... It was clear how they would have been useful, but Draco Malfoy? Why? Especially once his home and lands were gone, what use would Draco Malfoy be?

Draco had been photographed by the Daily Prophet when he went out of the apartment the previous week. Not a huge article, just a comment about a sighting of the elusive Malfoy heir. One look at the photo; his enigmatic yet troubled expression, his ethereal beauty, his delicate features and the hurt in his deep grey eyes, and people began to wonder if it was for his aesthetic qualities that the Dark Lord had kept Draco Malfoy alive. Did the Dark Lord think about that sort of thing? Who knows? But one look at the photos of the beautiful, vulnerable boy planted the seed of the idea that Draco Malfoy would have made a very nice little plaything if the Dark Lord did in fact have those type of tendencies.

Kingsley sighed, his head resting in his hands as he sat at his desk on Tuesday. It didn't matter what people thought about Draco, or his family or his background. It didn't even matter if the gossips and scandalmongers were discussing the nature of Draco's relationship to the Dark Lord. It was no one's business and Draco had done nothing wrong. Draco was innocent and had nothing to be ashamed of. Loving Draco was nothing to be ashamed of!

 _'Loving him!'_ Kingsley had startled himself with the thought. Did he... **love** , Draco? Kingsley steadied himself. It rather seemed that he did! This was problematic, especially if Draco didn't realise this. Kingsley felt like he was going crazy. There was no way all this could wait until Friday. To hell with what anyone thought, Aarion, Fudge, the rest of the world... Damn them all! This was between him and Draco and he would take control and put things right!

Draco was struggling with emotions too, and found his self care routines hard to follow that week. He longed for a potion to take the edge off the pain and self loathing he was feeling. It was fortunate that his money had not yet come to him, otherwise he might just have gone and sought out some Essence of Euphoria to make him feel a little better for a short time. However, he didn't have that option and deep down he didn't want to do that, not really. He tried hard to stick to his plan: Up and dressed early. Writing, reading, a little magic practice. Although it turned out that magic is a little like riding a bike, you never really forget spells you have learnt. In only a week, Draco was almost as confident as he ever had been with a wand, becoming more and more familiar with the Ash wood and Unicorn hair wand he had taken to using.

He focused hard on keeping his routine and by Wednesday he was feeling a little more normal again. He had spent most of the day reading, out on the roof terrace, and at about 4pm had come inside for an early evening bath as the weather had suddenly got a little colder.

He bathed and washed his hair, and following his bath he pulled on a large cream woollen sweater he had found in the apartment. It was far too big for him of course. It came almost to his knees, the neckline was rather wide and he had to push the sleeves up, but it was soft and it was clean. It was rather a nice garment to wear for a lazy evening in the house.

Freshly washed and feeling more relaxed than he had for a while, Draco sauntered from the bathroom across the hall and into the sitting room. He was just about to curl up on the sofa when there was a loud knock at the door which made him jump. Who on earth could it be?

Kingsley could not wait for Friday. By Wednesday lunchtime he was so distracted with thoughts about Draco that he had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar, had missed his floor twice in the elevators and had accidently sent his owl with his shopping list to the department of mysteries and a request for a confidential file to the grocery store. Fortunately he had been able to summon back the owl with the confidential request once the department of mysteries had alerted him to the mix up. However it had been too close for his liking. This situation needed resolving before it drove him completely crazy. He would go to see Draco that night. It was important, it couldn't wait until the weekend!

Tentatively, Draco tiptoed to the front door, wary of just who it could be. It was gone half past 5 in the evening, it was out of business hours so it couldn't be about his settlement... He opened the door and gasped in surprise when he saw minister Shacklebolt standing there. He couldn't be there! It was only Wednesday and Draco wasn't ready!

'Draco. May I come in?' Kingsley asked humbly, trying not to be put off by the obvious look of horror on the boys face.

Draco stepped back and simply nodded, panicking. Of course the minister could come in. It was his apartment after all. He could do what he liked. If only Draco had known he was going to put the rent up, he could have made himself ready. He felt a little sick with nerves and anxiety.

Kingsley stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He looked at Draco who honestly looked as if he were about to cry.

'Draco, are you alright?' Kingsley asked timidly, beginning to wonder if this had been a good idea after all.

'Its... it's only Wednesday.' Draco managed tearfully, his voice sounding shakier that he had imagined it would be. 'It's only Wednesday, I... I didn't know you were coming. I'm, I'm not ready.' He said, his lip trembling.

Draco wanted to be more articulate, wanted to be more mature, more cohesive, but all of his emotions were completely overwhelming him and he felt like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. He hadn't made his body ready when he bathed, hadn't shaved and used his usual sweet smelling oils. This process not only made his body ready, it got his mind ready too. He wasn't it the right head space for sex, just like that, with no warning. He had spent months having to be ready on demand and had been trying hard to train himself not to live like that anymore. Now Kingsley was here, presumably for more rent, and Draco was totally unprepared. He felt ugly and he felt dreadful.

Kingsley began to panic. Perhaps he should go and leave Draco in peace? But leaving was the problem, wasn't it? Leaving **again** would only add to the problem and make things worse. It was time to be brave and not expect Draco to have to be the strong one. He, Kingsley, was the older one here, he was the one in the position of strength. It was about time he took a gentle command of the whole situation.

He approached Draco slowly and spoke softly.

'Listen Draco. If you want me to go and leave you in peace this evening, I will do so. But before I do I want you to know that I haven't come here to make any demands of you. That is never what I intended to do and I'm sorry if that's how it's felt to you. I'd like to see you this evening, not to ask anything of you, just to see you, if you don't mind me being here, of course.'

Draco stared at him with wide frightened eyes, feeling very silly in the huge white jumper-dress, with damp hair and bare feet. Tears began to run down his cheeks as he nodded his head in response.

Kingsley was not sure what to make of this. The nodding said _'yes'_ but the tears said _'no'_. Or did they? Kingsley scolded himself mentally. The tears may not say ' _no_ ', they might simply remind him that poor Draco was still deeply wounded and damaged by the ordeal he had been through. The tears were a reminder that what might feel normal to the average wizard in the street might feel scary and odd to Draco. Kingsley understood that Draco's tears didn't say _'no'_ , they actually said ' _please help me._ '

Kingsley stepped towards Draco and pulled the sobbing boy into a warm embrace and held him tightly, stroking his shoulders.

'Oh Draco! I'm so sorry.' He whispered. 'I didn't mean to hurt you.'

Draco's head was spinning as he tried to take all of this in. He needed to respond.

'You didn't.' He managed, sniffing and feeling totally pathetic. 'I just didn't know you were coming, I haven't made myself look nice.'

'You look adorable.' Kingsley whispered, kissing the top of Draco's blond head. 'But it doesn't even matter how you look, I just wanted to come and see you.'

'I'm sorry.' Draco said tearfully, stepping back from the hug and drying his eyes. 'I'm sorry for being so stupid.'

'You're not stupid.' Kingsley said firmly. 'If anyone is, I am. I've been an idiot and I've made you feel dreadful which was never what I wanted. Perhaps we can start over...?'

Draco tried to smile, but he didn't really know what Kingsley meant by _'start over'_. He hoped it didn't mean he wanted to stop sleeping with him all together.

'I guess we could try.' Draco said. 'How do we do that?'

'Well, we would start by you knowing that you don't have to sleep with me if you don't want to.' Kingsley said in a serious tone. 'I hope you knew that anyway. I really hope...' he paused awkwardly, his heart pounding, 'I hope you did what you did with me because you wanted to, not because you thought you had to. I really do hope that's the case, Draco.'

Draco smiled and blushed his eyes shining with fresh tears.

'Yes.' He replied quietly. 'Yes, I wanted to.'

Kingsley sighed out loud in relief and hugged Draco again.

'I'm so glad about that.' He breathed. 'I like you Draco, very much indeed.'

Draco found that for some reason he cried more as Kingsley said this although the words made him happier that he had imagined he would ever feel in his life. Kingsley simply held him and let him cry for the short time that he needed to. He could be strong for Draco when Draco needed him to be. It was the least he could do for him and holding him, even when he cried was an honour, not a chore.

'So what happens now?' Draco asked earnestly.

'I would suggest we sit in the lounge and have some tea.' Kingsley said assertively. Poor little Draco probably really didn't know what happened next, after all. 'We sit and talk. Spend some time together.' He said as he led Draco to the sitting room. 'That's what I came round for.'

'I'm sorry.' Draco replied, feeling very foolish and embarrassed.

Kingsley picked Draco up and placed him down on the sofa.

'Don't be sorry.' He smiled. 'Stay there and I'll make us some tea.'

Draco did exactly as he was told and stayed in the precise place on the sofa where Kingsley had placed him and waited while Kingsley wondered into the open plan kitchen and made drinks.

'You could put some music on if you like?' Kingsley called to him.

'Can I?' Draco asked. 'Ok.'

It was something of a wakeup call for Kingsley to realise that Draco had thought he literally could not move from the sofa, simply because he had said the words _'stay there'_. He really did need to be more mindful of what Draco had been through! He should encourage Draco to have more autonomy and decision making in his own life, but also support him by taking charge when Draco needed him to. And Draco would need him to, probably quite often at first, as he was clearly lacking in confidence in himself.

'What should I put on?' Draco asked.

'Oh... maybe a little light classical music...?' Kingsley suggested. 'Baroque. It's usually the most cheerful.'

Draco did as he was instructed and put the music on at a medium volume so it could be heard but was not too intrusive. He then returned to his place on the sofa and waited for Kingsley to return with tea.

Kingsley placed 2 mugs of tea on the glass coffee table and sat down beside Draco giving him a warm smile.

Draco smiled back and blushed, still feeling rather like a foolish child for having been so upset. He dearly wished he hadn't been so emotional and had managed to remain cool and calm until he found out exactly **why** the minister had come round to see him.

'So, Draco...' Kingsley began. 'I have some excellent news regarding your settlement. The money and the deeds for the town will be transferred to you this coming Monday, much sooner than I had imagined. We will go to Gringotts together and I will sign the amount over to you and they will create an account in your name.'

Draco's eyes widened in delight.

'Really?' He gasped. 'This Monday?'

'Yes, This Monday.' Kingsley nodded and took a sip of his tea. It was wonderful to see Draco so happy.

'Wow!' Draco breathed, hardly able to believe he was actually going to get something back which belonged to him. 'And you'll be at Gringotts to sign it over to me?' He clarified.

'Yes.' Said Kingsley. 'I have to be the one to authorise it, given that it is a considerable sum.'

Draco looked a little uncomfortable. If anyone ever found out that he and Kingsley had been sleeping together it could cast a shadow over the whole settlement.

'Don't look so concerned.' Kingsley soothed, as if he had read Draco's thoughts. 'Remember, it's only a fraction of the value of the house you lost, and it's no less than what's due to you under the circumstances. It's all above board. The details will be published, as in all inheritance cases. There's no need to look concerned.'

Draco smiled, feeling a little better that everything would be out in the open regarding the money. He had had enough of secrets.

'Is that why you came to see me, minister?' Draco asked, taking a sip of tea. 'To tell me about the settlement?'

Kingsley smiled.

'That, and...' He reached his arm out and slipped it around Draco's shoulders encouraging Draco to snuggle against him, 'I just wanted to see you, too.' He confessed. 'I was worried that you might think I only came round here for sex when actually, I really like you.'

Draco blushed and smiled in spite of himself.

'That **is** what you thought, isn't it?' Kingsley asked him. 'You thought I just wanted to use you, didn't you.'

Draco looked ashamed and bit his lip, not knowing how to reply.

'It's my fault.' Kingsley concluded. 'I think I was forgetting just how much of an ordeal you've been through. But I want you to know, I like you very much, as a person, not just for the sex... Although that is pretty mind blowing too!' Kingsley said with a smile which made Draco blush again.

'I thought so too.' Draco whispered, smiling. 'And I'm sorry about freaking out before, I don't want you to think I didn't want to be with you, because that's not true at all! I admit I did feel upset because you kept leaving afterwards...'

Kingsley squeezed Draco tightly in apology.

'But I did want to be with you!' Draco confirmed again. 'I was just surprised to see you today because it's not Friday and... well... I usually spend a bit of time getting ready when I know I'm going to, you know... sleep with someone. I like to make sure I'm... nice. I take some time to make sure everything is right, and I wear, something that looks right. Or at least, I try to.' Draco managed, feeling rather stupid again and not feeling he was explaining things well.

Kingsley smiled at him.

'I'd noticed!' He said, kissing Draco on the forehead before lifting him up and placing Draco in his lap.

Draco giggled.

'But for what it's worth, Draco, I think you a pretty damn adorable and perfect just as you are.' He said, stroking Draco's bare legs. 'But if taking some time over getting ready is important to you I respect that. I'm certainly never going to complain any time you want to dress up pretty for me.'

Draco felt butterflies in his stomach. Was this really happening? Was Kingsley Shacklebolt really saying these things to him?

'You don't think it's stupid then?' Draco asked. 'You don't think I'm too much hard work? Too high maintenance?'

Kingsley chuckled.

'I'll let you into a little secret Draco; I rather **like** high maintenance.' He replied.

Draco laughed and a wicked glint came to his eyes.

'You might regret saying that.' He said. 'You have no idea just how much of a spoilt brat I used to be!'

Kingsley laughed, loving the sparky side of Draco.

'I reckon I can handle it.' He said firmly and calmly.

Draco and Kingsley talked for quite some time, eventually realising they hadn't eaten and dinner yet which prompted Kingsley to offer to make some cheese on toast which they ate at the breakfast bar, still deep in conversation about anything and everything.

Draco, despite his age, was confident in conversing on many topics, perhaps because he had read so much. It certainly made him seem far more grown up than he was. He could discuss complex subjects better than most ministry officials, Kingsley reflected, feeling suitably impressed.

It was gone 10pm when Kingsley finally noticed the time and decided to ask to stay.

'It's rather late.' He remarked casually. 'I wonder if you would mind too terribly if I were to stay here tonight?'

Draco's heart skipped a beat. This was everything he had ever wanted.

'Really, minister?' He teased playfully. 'And you told me you hadn't come round to sleep with me this evening!'

'Well perhaps I should do just that.' Kingsley replied. ' **Sleep** with you. Sleep beside you. Stay with you the whole night. You need to learn that this isn't all about sex and we can have a great time just being close to each other.'

'Oh. Do I?' Draco asked.

'Yes.' Said Kingsley. 'I want you to know that I'm happy to be beside you and it isn't all about the sex.' He told Draco firmly. 'So let's go to bed, simply because it's getting late and we really should get some sleep.'

It was a very strange experience for Draco, as he had never actually done this before. Actually gone to be with someone in this very real sense. He spent a while in the bathroom. Even if they were only going to sleep beside one another he still wanted to be at his best. He returned to the bedroom in the white silk robe and was a little shocked to see Kingsley had stripped down to his underwear already.

Draco blushed as he seemed to lose control of his eyes which roamed freely over Kingsley's muscular body, drinking in every curve of his rich, dark skin. Draco stared more than was polite, he couldn't help himself!

Kingsley noticed of course and, over his self consciousness about his dramatic scar, he smiled. Draco was looking at him in the same way he looked at Draco. This was a wonderful thing! It proved Aarion wrong, in part, at least. It was not only Kingsley who liked Draco, Draco clearly liked him in return. He had said as much earlier that evening and now the expression of desire on his face confirmed it. Kingsley slipped into the bathroom with a satisfied smile.

Draco took this opportunity to get into the bed and wait for him under the blankets, excited and nervous. He felt like he was having a sleepover. He had never been allowed to have sleepovers when he was a child but had always wanted to. It was all very exciting.

Kingsley returned from the bathroom and headed straight to the huge bed and climbed in beside Draco. Draco's heart skipped a beat. He was going to bed with the minister for magic! He looked and felt a little nervous.

'Come here, baby.' Kingsley said warmly, extending his arms to hug Draco.

Draco did as he was told and moved close to Kingsley, cuddled in, and rested his head against his chest. Kingsley smiled and kissed the top of Draco's head.

'You ok there?' He asked with a grin as Draco snuggled in tightly.

'Uh hu.' Draco replied contentedly. He couldn't say any more than that for fear he would burst into tears. Happy tears.

He had always, **always** wanted to be held this way. Every single lonely night in his 6 months hiding at the manor, he imagined how it would feel to climb into bed with another person. A warm, affectionate person who would hold him tightly, kiss him, caress him and love him. Of course he didn't know whether or not Kingsley would ever **love** him, that may be too much to hope for! But he was holding him, he was caressing his back gently and it felt more like love than anything Draco had ever felt before. ' _There's no way I'm going to sleep, not even for a minute!'_ Draco thought to himself. He didn't want to miss one single second of this night. He could sleep tomorrow.

Draco's heart hammered and his emotions seemed to overwhelm him. He was elated, excited, nervous, frightened and vulnerable all at the same time and try as he might, his unsteady breathing began to give way to quiet little sobs. Emotions over powered him as a few tears managed to escape from his eyes and crept down his pale cheeks.

Kingsley noticed immediately.

'Hey, baby! You're crying!' He said with great concern, sitting up a little to look at Draco. 'What's the matter? Come on, talk to me.'

Draco could now add embarrassment to his list of emotions. He really hadn't wanted to seem like a messed up child all over again!

'It's nothing.' He managed to whisper, stroking Kingsley's chest to try to assure him. 'It's nothing, I'm just, happy, that's all.'

Kingsley gave Draco a sympathetic look and reminded himself that Draco had been through a hell of a lot in the past. He kissed his forehead.

'As long as you're sure.' He said kindly, not wanting to push Draco to talk if he didn't want to. 'You're a complicated little kitten, aren't you?' He smiled.

Draco instantly giggled at being called a kitten and Kingsley was please to see him smile.

'I'm sorry.' Draco said bashfully. 'I'm such a mess.'

Kingsley hugged him tightly.

'Yeah... But you're a hot mess.' He grinned playfully.

Draco giggled again.

'You're not really a mess, you know.' Kingsley said in a more serious tone. 'You've had a really tough time and you're doing great. You need to give yourself some credit.'

Draco smiled at him appreciating his kindness.

'Now let's get some sleep, baby.' Kingsley said softly, laying back down.

'OK.' Draco replied and he turned over to get comfortable so that Kingsley was spooning him, his big strong arms around him. Draco had his back pressed against Kingsley's chest.

Draco felt warm, safe and deeply contented. He snuggled back against Kingsley wanting as much closeness as he could get. He was just about to close his eyes and drift off to sleep when he noticed something hard pressing into his lower back. Without thinking, Draco squirmed a little, wriggling his body in order to feel more comfortable. The hardness was still there. Draco's eyebrows raised.

'Minister!' He whispered playfully. 'Either you sleep with your wand tucked in your underwear, or your intentions aren't as honourable as you made me believe!'

Kingsley chuckled and shifted a little, pressing his erection more firmly against Draco.

'My intentions are perfectly honourable.' He replied. 'But I think you're absolutely gorgeous. I can't be expected to lay next to you and not get aroused, can I? I'm only human! I promise I wasn't going to act on it.'

'Why not...?' Draco whispered in a sultry voice, reaching his hand behind him and taking hold of Kingsley's cock which was poking out of the front of his silk boxer shorts. Draco pressed it against his ass cheeks.

'Because...' Kingsley began firmly, 'You need to learn that this isn't just about sex and that we can have a great time just being together.'

'I've learnt that now.' Draco replied in a confident and precocious tone, sounding almost like his old self.

Kingsley laughed.

'Have you, indeed...?' He muttered as Draco thoroughly distracted him by caressing his cock, stroking his hand back and forth, up and down the length.

'Yes.' Said Draco, sounding more and more confident. 'I've learnt it. And now you should fuck me.'

Kingsley sighed and propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Draco with a wicked smile.

'If you insist, your highness, I suppose I'll have to.' He teased. 'But I want you on your back...' He said, in a masterful tone, as he climbed on top of Draco.

Draco willingly let Kingsley get between his slender legs and he pulled a pillow under his hips. He smiled up at his lover with a sultry expression.

'Yeah...' Kingsley whispered. 'I want you under me... Just like that.' He added as Draco lay back with his hands either side of his head on the pillow. ' **Just** like that!' Kingsley smiled.

Kingsley pressed the head of his cock to Draco's entrance, getting the feeling that Draco was ready to go without foreplay. He cast a lubrication spell and drove into Draco with a firm, slow thrust, opening him up slowly and savouring the heat and tightness of being inside him.

Draco gasped with pleasure and stared intensely up at Kingsley who was looking down at him with a dominant yet caring expression on his handsome face.

'Mmmmmm... Yeah, my sweet little baby.' Kingsley whispered as he drove his rock hard cock deep into Draco's willing ass. 'I like you just like this, baby. So sweet. You look so sweet like this.'

Draco tried not to blush at the compliments and he focused on the gorgeous sensation of being opened up and filled by Kingsley's huge, satisfying cock. He squeezed his muscles as Kingsley drove in deep, Draco almost wanted to hold him there, inside him forever, so that he could always feel this complete.

Kingsley caressed Draco's face.

'Gods, you're beautiful!' He exclaimed, reaching down and kissing Draco's lips softly. 'You're so damn beautiful, Draco, and you feel amazing!'

The one short kiss had reminded Draco of just what he was missing and he reached up to Kingsley's mouth, bringing him back into a deeper, more intense kiss.

Kingsley tried to be careful and consider the fact that he probably weighed more than twice what Draco did. He loved having the pretty little boy under him, but didn't want to squash the poor thing. He tensed his biceps and supported his weight on his forearms. He was close enough to kiss Draco intensely and close enough for Draco to feel his body weight pinning him to the bed. Draco thought it was the most perfect feeling.

Draco opened his mouth and Kingsley kissed him deeply, his thick sensuous lips over Draco's delicate ones, he explored Draco's mouth with his tongue, wanting all of him in every possible way. Draco kissed back just as passionately, loving Kingsley being in the position of power over him, but also wanting him to know just how much he was enjoying it.

The pleasure was overwhelming for Draco, and for Kingsley. It was the sort of pleasure that was about more than just orgasmic thrill, it was the pleasure of a real, meaningful union.

Kingsley took hold of Draco's hands, interlocking fingers and gripping him tightly. It had the effect of holding him down yet more firmly to the bed whilst at the same time had the effect of feeling like holding his hands. A combination of mastery and affection, it was just what Draco wanted.

Somehow Kingsley's words, actions and the way he made love to Draco that evening, let Draco know that Kingsley could give him just what he needed. He was strong and powerful and could take complete control of Draco whenever he wanted that. When Draco was uncertain or unsure Kingsley could be assertive and commanding, yet somehow still managed to worship the very ground Draco walked on. The combination made Draco feel safe, adored and also in complete awe of his amazing new lover. Kingsley could dominate him in ways he didn't know existed. Because he was kind, because he had such profound magical and physical strength, he could, with only a few words, have Draco however he wanted him. He could make Draco smile, laugh or submit utterly, and Draco wanted to do all of it!

Draco basked in the sheer hedonistic pleasure of being taken by someone who adored him and with each moment that Kingsley was inside him, was holding him, was kissing him, Draco seemed to move closer and closer to feeling confident and like he did actually deserve to be happy. After all, if someone like Kingsley could feel this way about him, he couldn't be all bad, could he? He gripped his lover tightly with his legs and with his hands as if he never wanted to let him go!

It was gone 2am when Kingsley flopped down beside Draco after he finished making love to him for the third time that night. It only then that Kingsley began to wonder if sleeping over on a work night had been such a good idea. It had seemed like it at the time but might seem less so when the alarm clock went off in the morning. However, even Draco was exhausted now. Kingsley was almost grateful, as he was beginning to get the message that Draco did indeed have a rather demanding side. It was certainly apparent in the bedroom to say the least.

But really, nothing could have been nicer. After a rocky start to the evening Kingsley had managed to put things to rights with Draco. He was no longer claiming rent from him, instead they were sleeping together, by mutual consent and enjoyment. They had spent time talking and had got on really well, sharing opinions on art and culture and discovering they had rather similar tastes in expensive clothes. They had things in common, besides an electrifying connection in the bedroom. Draco was sleeping peacefully at last and as Kingsley closed his eyes he felt delighted by the thought that this may well turn into a real relationship after all.


	10. Chapter 10

When they finally went to sleep, both Kingsley and Draco slept soundly. Draco slept so soundly in fact that he barely noticed Kingsley quietly slip out of bed just before 6 am. It was nearly 7am when Draco began to stir, memories of the most perfect night of his life hazily returning to him. He reached for Kingsley. Draco's heart stopped for a second when he felt the bed was empty but after a moment of panic, his senses began to wake up...

He could hear something, noises coming from the kitchen. Music. He sat up and sniffed. He could smell something too. Food. Someone was cooking breakfast.

Draco jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. He hastily brushed his teeth and splashed some cold water on his face to wake himself up. Then wrapped his silk dressing gown around him and made his way to the kitchen.

Bare footed and hair un-brushed, Draco wondered into the kitchen with a curious expression on his face, wondering just what was going on. .

Kingsley was up, showered and dressed and was standing at the cooker tending 2 frying pans; one containing eggs, the other bacon and mushrooms. The radio was on, playing some upbeat jazz music and Kingsley was absent-mindedly singing along as he cooked. Draco watched for a few moments, a wide grin appearing on his face, before Kingsley noticed him.

'Morning, beautiful.' He called cheerfully sounding very lively for so early in the morning. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Yes thank you.' Draco replied. 'Did you?'

'Yes, I did... eventually!' Kingsley said with a playful grin.

'Sorry.' Draco said, blushing, but not sounding very sorry at all.

'It's OK.' Kingsley replied. 'But when I'm falling asleep at my desk by 3pm I'll be thinking of you!'

Draco didn't reply, and simply gave Kingsley a wicked smile.

'It's not your fault, I suppose.' Kingsley said. ' I'd be thinking about you anyway.' He grinned.

Draco continued to smile, delighted by the compliments.

'You still sleepy? Come here, I've made you some coffee.' Kingsley offered.

'Thanks.' Draco replied and he crept over to the breakfast bar.

Kingsley poured a cup of coffee from the cafetiere and offered it to Draco from the other side of the counter. Draco reached for it.

'No...! Good morning kiss first!' Kingsley said, holding the coffee back and leaning over to Draco. Draco leant in too and Kingsley kissed him softly on the lips before handing him the coffee.

'Sit down, baby.' Kingsley instructed. 'Breakfast's almost ready.'

Draco took his coffee and sat down, tingling with emotion. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt, the closest thing he could liken it to was Essence of Euphoria but he hadn't had any potions for weeks. Perhaps it really was possible to feel this good without any!

Kingsley and Draco ate breakfast together. It was all rather new to Draco yet if felt incredibly natural too. Conversation was easy and little displays of affection, a touch of a hand, a kiss on the cheek, kept Draco feeling reassured and exceeding happy.

It was gone half past 8 when Kingsley left. Draco had walked him to the door and they had shared a long, passionate kiss goodbye. Draco had to stand on tiptoes to kiss Kingsley and Kingsley had to lean down into him but it felt just right that way. Draco parted his lips willingly when Kingsley began to kiss him, letting Kingsley's tongue slip into his mouth. Draco held his lover tightly and Kingsley ran his big strong hands up and down Draco's narrow back. A short, goodbye kiss would have been impossible for them! Draco sucked on Kingsley tongue and Kingsley thrust deeper into his mouth, both of them wishing there kisses could lead them straight back to the bedroom. Draco bit gently onto Kingsley lower lip it became apparent that they really should have set more time aside for goodbyes!

'I'm going to be so late!' Kingsley exclaimed as he pulled back from Draco at last.

'It's not my fault you can't stop kissing me.' Draco replied with a coquettish glint in his eyes.

Kingsley laughed.

'You're a bad influence, aren't you?' He teased.

'Oh, I wouldn't want to distract you from your duties, minister!' Draco said seductively, pulling Kingsley back into his arms again.

'You've been distracting me for weeks, baby!' Kingsley whispered. 'I can't stop thinking about you!'

'Good!' Draco exclaimed with a satisfied smile. 'Now, go! Go, and keep the magical world running as it should. Be all important and powerful.' He grinned.

'Whatever you say, sweetie.' Kingsley replied. 'But I'm gonna come round tomorrow night if that's ok with you?'

'Hummmmm... go on then.' Draco teased.

'It's a date.' Kingsley said confidently, and with that he finally left the apartment.

He parting words made Draco a little nervous. _'it's a date...'_ Draco had never had an actual date before. He didn't quite know what to do. He was sure it should be a little different than just coming round to see someone and then spending the whole night fucking. He would have to think about it because he wanted to get it right. Draco wondered through to the sitting room and flopped onto the luxurious sofa with a huge grin on his face. He felt like the cat who got the cream. Draco felt a fluttering in his heart and butterflies in his stomach as he realised, he rather liked the idea of dating the minister for magic!

Of course, it didn't reduce his very genuine emotions to simply the thrill of chasing status, because it ran so much deeper than that, but it could hardly not appeal to him, could it? Draco, a Slytherin, a pureblood aristocrat with expensive taste and a longing to be 'someone'. The idea of being the minister's boyfriend was bound to be appealing. Draco positively glowed with happiness and he wondered if Kingsley would ever refer to him as his "boyfriend", or perhaps his partner...? That sounded more grown up, didn't it? The ministers partner. Draco played the words over in his head. Yes. He could get to like that title!

Kingsley surprised himself at just how lively and alert he was through day. He tried not to make it obvious that he had a new love interest in his life, but he did find himself walking around with a big smile on his face and a somewhat faraway look in his eyes from time to time. He tried hard to control himself, especially when he saw Aarion in the canteen at lunchtime.

When Aarion set eyes on Kingsley he seemed to suddenly lose his appetite, for he stood up and left the room at once, throwing Kingsley a look of pure disgust. It hurt, in all honesty. He and Aarion had been friends once, but Kingsley shrugged it off as best he could. After all, Kingsley had to admit he had been somewhat devious in making sure there was a distance between Aarion and Draco, but Kingsley had always been someone who would go for the things he wanted. He wanted Draco, and he may have used slightly questionable means to get him, but it was all ok. Draco wanted him too and that was all that mattered. Aarion's opinion was of no consequence in the end.

Kingsley sat down at a table with a large cup of coffee and a huge plate of pasta. Caffeine and carbohydrates were the only way to do a day at work after only 3 hours sleep! Just as he began to eat he heard a familiar voice.

'Minister!'

Kingsley turned round to see both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley approaching him with trays of food.

'Harry! Ron!' He beamed. 'Do come and join me. I didn't know you were back from training camp.'

They sat down at his table, both beaming and looking very well and healthy.

'Got back 2 days ago.' Ron told him, tucking into his food right away.

'And how was it?' Kingsley asked with a knowing smile.

'Hard work!' Harry answered enthusiastically. 'But it was great. Can't wait to get back for phase 2!'

'I'm glad you're enjoying it.' Kingsley replied.

'How have things been here?' Harry asked. 'How have the trials been going?'

'Well, they've kept everyone busy, that's for sure!' Kingsley answered. 'But generally they have been going well. It's never straightforward of course, but I've been 100 percent convinced of the verdicts every time.'

'I'll be glad when it's all over.' Harry volunteered. 'I'm fed up of people talking to me about it all. I just want to get on with my training and be an auror, just a regular auror, not some kind of chosen one.'

Kingsley smiled sympathetically.

'It **will** happen.' He assured him. 'The papers are already starting to gossip about other things now, aren't they. And you two both seem to be fitting right in to auror life from what I have heard.'

'Not as much as Hermione is!' Ron exclaimed, a hint of jealousy in his voice. 'With the exception of flying, she's better than us at everything! I don't know why I'm surprised, it's just like Hogwarts all over again!'

Kingsley laughed.

'Actually, we're better at the social side.' Ron reflected. 'She isn't quite as rowdy as some of the cadets. That's where our skills lie.'

'I wouldn't go that far!' Harry interjected. 'However, we have been invited on the auror night out this Friday. There's loads for people going who fought in the battle. Loads of aurors are going, it's supposed to be a really good night. Do you fancy coming along, Minister?' Harry asked.

Kingsley was flattered and he smiled a little apologetically.

'Thank you for the invitation, Harry.' He began. 'But if I remember correctly from my auror days, we always had better nights out when the minister for magic **wasn't** invited along too!'

'Yeah, but it was old Fudge back then!' Ron pointed out.

'Yeah.' Harry agreed. 'It'd be different now it's you.'

Kingsley appreciated the compliment but knew it was naive and misguided. Yes, he was well liked, but ultimately he was still 'the boss' and however popular he was, there was still a distance between him and his teams now that he was in an elevated position.

'I'm not sure everyone would agree with you.' He replied. 'And besides, I'm afraid I can't go anyway. I have plans this Friday.'

He had tried to sound as natural as possible as he said this, but something in his tone of voice or his facial expression must have given him away.

'Oh yeah?' Harry grinned. 'Someone special, is she?'

Kingsley sighed.

'Yes. Yes **he** is, as a matter of fact.' He replied.

'Oh!' Said Harry, blushing almost crimson. 'Oh, well, have a lovely time then. You'll have to come out with us some other time.'

'Yes, some other time.' Kingsley said, finishing his lunch. 'Now, please do excuse me...' He said standing up.

'Of course.' Harry said at once.

'See you later.' Ron said casually as Kingsley walked away.

'Merlin's balls!' Harry exclaimed, once Kingsley was safely out of earshot.

'What?' Ron replied through a mouthful of pie.

'Kingsley! Minister Shacklebolt, dating a **guy**!' Harry whispered.

'Yeah?' Ron said apathetically, still eating.

'Well, nothing, I guess. I just, I just never imagined him dating a bloke.' Harry mused.

'Oh right!' Ron said after a pause. 'I sometimes forget you were raised by muggles, Harry. That sort of thing's a big deal to muggles isn't it?'

'I guess it is to some of them, yeah.' Harry admitted.

'Well it's not to wizards and witches.' Ron replied. 'No one's really bothered, or even notices a difference.'

'It doesn't bother me!' Harry clarified at once. 'I mean, I don't have a problem with it, people should date whoever they like. I just feel a bit silly for saying **she** like that. I shouldn't have assumed, I guess. I didn't even know Kingsley was seeing **anyone** , to be honest.' He reflected.

'Neither did I.' Ron said. 'But he's a very private person, likes to keep his personal life to himself, I reckon. Which is fair enough, but it can't be easy now he's minister for magic!'

'He has my every sympathy there!' Harry grimaced, knowing all too well how it felt to have no privacy in your personal life. The papers has barely left him alone since the war. With every passing day people seemed to become less grateful to him and more keen to gossip about him.

'Anyway...' Said Ron assertively. 'Kingsley has his hot date, we have our night out. Everybody wins! Friday night is set to be a good one all round!'

Draco enjoyed a leisurely morning in the apartment. He showered, styled his hair and dressed himself nicely as he began to feel almost like his old self. He looked in the mirror and actually smiled at his reflection as he saw someone looking back at him who he actually wanted to be. OK, he was still a little on the thin side, and he accepted he would always be shorter than he would like. However, 5 foot 7 wasn't a bad height and it felt kind of good to be short and skinny and small and to cuddle up with someone who was big and board and tall. There was a nice, protected feeling to it.

Slowly and gradually Draco was coming back to feeling that he was worth something again. What had happened between him and Voldemort was fading away in his memory and he had done a lot of work on forgiving himself, and a little on forgiving Voldemort too.

The strange thing was, he seemed to understand just exactly what Voldemort had meant to him now that he had fallen into a relationship with someone else. There were moments when Kingsley was kind to Draco and Draco now understood the moments in which Voldemort had tried to be kind, but hadn't known how. Draco forgave him. The moments when Kingsley checked up on Draco, made sure he was ok, Draco knew that this was something Voldemort could never have done. Not because he didn't care if Draco was ok, but because he was so afraid that he wasn't it was easier and safer not to ask. Draco forgave him. He could never forgive or excuse the violence Voldemort had perpetrated out in the world but he was silently thankful him that Voldemort never showed any of that to Draco himself.

Draco found it odd that on the day in which he had been happier that he could ever remember being in his life, he was finding his mind drifting back to Voldemort throughout the day. He tried to make himself think about Kingsley, because thinking about Kingsley filled him with a warm fuzzy feeling, and thinking about Voldemort left him feeling empty and cold. Draco took a moment with his thoughts. Perhaps it was time to say goodbye to Voldemort, to really let it go? It wasn't easy to know how to say goodbye to him. The whole affair had ended and suddenly and as horribly as it had begun. The end mirrored the beginning, really. They had never really met and become close, and they had never really said goodbye either. Draco wondered out to the roof terrace with a quill and parchment. This was the only way. He silently penned a goodbye letter:

 _'Voldemort, my lord Voldemort,_

 _I'm not sure where you are... I don't know where people like you go in the end, but I want you to know I don't hate you.'_

 _You didn't know how to love me, but I_ _ **do**_ _know that you tried. I understand it now. But I couldn't love you. There wasn't enough left of_ _ **you**_ _to love. Perhaps if there had been... but you were too far gone. I saw glimpses of you and I know I'm the only one who ever did. I couldn't save you, I think you knew that really, didn't you? Loving me wasn't enough to save you after all that you had done._

 _I learnt a lot from you, you might not know that, but I did. There were moments when I saw you and you reminded me of myself. Just a hurting little boy who wanted the world. We all want the world, don't we? It's in our nature, but I could never do what you did. But I don't hate you and I forgive you for all the hurt I felt. Because, because I know what no one else does. I know that you were hurting far more than anyone else was. That tiny bit of you that was still human, I know how much pain it was in and how desperate it was to be loved. If things had been different perhaps I could have loved you. If things had been different you could have been brilliant, I'm sure. But this is how things are and I'm sure there are very few people in the world who will speak about you with any kindness in their hearts, but I can, when I'm alone._

 _You took a year from me, half starved me, drugged me. You forced me to grow up before I was ready to, but I know it was nothing compared to what you had lived through by my age. You promised me you would return for me and I believe you would have done, had you not been killed. I was never sure at the time, but I know now, you would have come for me if you had won the war. But what you were fighting for was wrong. Nobody who's fighting for something that's right has as much pain in their heart as you had._

 _I need to say goodbye to you now, forever, because I've fallen in love with someone else. Someone who I can love and who can love me back in ways you couldn't. You need a soul to be able to love,_ _ **really**_ _be able to love. I'll never forget you. Ever. But it ends now. I won't speak to you again and I won't think of you again, not like this. You've gone, I don't know where, but I can_ _ **feel**_ _you've gone. You've released me. You've let go, of everything, and perhaps that's the best thing you could do. I don't know what happens to someone like you now._

 _I just wanted to say Goodbye.'_

Draco read the letter over and he placed it on top of the outdoor stove. He nodded to himself. This felt right. It was a rite of passage. After all, he had lost someone from his life. It was time to say goodbye for good. It was the only way he was ever going to truly be free. So, although it felt a little uncomfortable to be thinking about this so deeply on what felt like such a happy day for him, it was something he needed to do. Now it was done it was time to let it go and focus on the future.

Draco raised his wand and set the parchment a light. He watched it brown and smoulder, watched the flames engulf it and watched it turn to dust and crumble away. As it did so, Draco's body and mind began to feel lighter. The world felt like a fresh and new place again. A silent goodbye had been offered, not just to say goodbye to Voldemort, but to say goodbye to the Draco who had been his prisoner. That part of Draco's life was over now. He could come back to himself again. He was no longer the Dark Lord's slave and prisoner. He was the minister's lover, and he had a date to prepare for! Ghosts laid to rest, Draco hurried back in to the apartment to make plans for tomorrow night as he set forth to become the real Draco Malfoy once again.

He would cook dinner. That was the perfect plan. If he cooked a meal himself it would make him look considerate and prepared to take time to do something nice. He could just ask the house elves to do it if he was lazy, but doing it himself showed dedication. It would also make him look very mature and sophisticated. He imagined himself serving up the fantastic menu he planned to produce. He summoned a house elf and placed his food order right away.

At a little after 9pm, Draco was carefully studying a recipe book when he heard a tapping at his window. A tiny Tawny owl was perched on the windowsill with a letter.

Draco jumped up and opened the window, letting the little bird in to the apartment and taking the letter. He gasped with happiness, recognising Kingsley's handwriting at once.

 _'Draco baby,_

 _I'm getting a seriously early night tonight and I'm hoping you're doing the same because tomorrow I'm gonna be with you again and I'm sure we'll want to 'make the most of being together', won't we?_

 _Last night was wonderful and I've missed you today, my little sweetie. I wish you were here with me now, only, I guess I really do need to get some sleep!_

 _Hope you've had a nice day Draco. I can't wait to see you._

 _Kingsley. Xx'_

Draco blushed and read the letter again. Twice, just to make sure it said everything he thought it said. he read it again, imagining it in Kingsley deep seductive voice.

At last he went a took a biscuit from a tin to give to the owl, and he sat down to write a response.

 _'Hello Minister._

 _I've had a wonderful day, thank you. I'm missing you too and I'm going to go to bed soon, where I promise I will be thinking of you!_

 _I can hardly wait to see you tomorrow. I hope you have a good day at work and can come to me as soon as possible! Good night. I hope you sleep well._

 _Yours... (_ _ **all**_ _yours!)_

 _Draco. XxxxX'_

Draco gave the owl the note and thought for a second how strange it was to have written a good bye letter and a love letter all in the same day. He dismissed the thought. He was Kingsley's now. That was all he ever needed to think about from now on because that was all he wanted!

Kingsley was climbing into bed when his little owl, his favourite owl for personal correspondence, fluttered into his bedroom with Draco's note. Kingsley read it and he smiled to himself. _'Are you sure Draco actually likes you...?'_ Ha! Aarion could go hex himself! Draco was clearly as happy as Kingsley to be in this new relationship. There was no better feeling. Kingsley fell happily asleep with the love note still clutched in his hand. A few streets away, in the apartment, Draco did the same. 

Draco woke up later than he had hoped on Friday morning. He jumped out of bed, dressed hurriedly without showering first as he was going to bathe later. He rushed to the kitchen. The house elves had provided the cooking ingredients he had requested.

Draco had decided it would be sensible to prep all of the ingredients first. Then he could store them all ready to cook later then he could get himself ready once they were done. That way if the prep was a messy business he could tidy himself up afterwards. Then, when Kingsley arrived all he would have to do was cook the stuff. Draco smiled as he imagined himself looking casual and oh so sophisticated as he effortlessly created a perfect meal for his lover and himself. It was going to be so impressive and grown up. After all, how difficult could homemade cannelloni be? He just had to make 2 sauces, prepare the filling, pre-cook the pasta, assemble the thing and put it in the oven. That should be easy a breeze! He diligently chopped the vegetables reading the recipe book carefully. He took time to make sure the onions were exactly 1cm cubes, because if cooking was anything like potions class then something like that could make or break the whole thing!

His task took quite some time and once it was complete he turned his attention to making sure he was ready for a romantic evening.

Draco took a bath and washed his hair. He shaved and preened himself to silky smooth perfection. He was quicker with this ritual than usual, and more enthusiastic. It felt very different today as he was enthusiastic not simply about the ritual itself but about the events that would follow. Draco was excited about the whole evening. His very first real date!

Looking perfect and dressed in his full set of robes, Draco went to the kitchen and set up his pans ready to begin his cooking. He started heating the pan for the onions. They had hurt his eyes as he prepared them and this had convinced him that they would be the most difficult things to manage. He carefully and slightly suspiciously pushed the tiny cubes into the pan which suddenly hissed and spat at him making him jump. Perhaps the heat was a little high. Draco turned it down a little and stood watching the onion cubes sizzle. He double checked the recipe and was slightly concerned that it didn't specify how many times to stir them, or in which direction. Draco concluded he would just have to leave them to brown on their own.

Draco was just inspecting the packet of pasta when there was a knock at the door. Draco jumped and he shivered with excited nerves. Abandoning the cooker he hurried to the front door.

'Good evening Minister.' Draco said in a sultry voice as he opened the door and smiled at Kingsley.

'Good evening, Mr Malfoy.' Kingsley replied with a grin.

Kingsley looked particularly striking and handsome this evening in deep crimson robes trimmed with rich gold braid and embroidery. From behind his back he pulled an enormous bouquet of red roses and handed it to Draco.

Draco blushed.

'Thank you. They're beautiful.' He said.

'Not as beautiful as you.' Kingsley replied as he kissed Draco on the cheek.

Draco felt his heart flutter.

Draco led Kingsley to the open plan kitchen where he placed the roses in a vase and set them in the centre of the dining table.

Kingsley sniffed. There was a rather odd smell.

'I've just started dinner.' Draco said in a casual, nonchalant way.

Kingsley raised his eyebrows and glanced over at the pan of blackened onions sizzling away to a charred pile of ash.

'Have you indeed?' Kingsley tried not to laugh. 'And what is it you are making?'

'Just a simple cannelloni.' Draco said in his most sophisticated voice as he proudly sashayed over to the cooker.

Kingsley grimaced behind Draco's back. This was clearly going to be a disaster, if those onions were anything to go by. What was more, he liked Draco so much that he would undoubtedly sit and eat the meal anyway, no matter how terrible it was, so as not to offend him.

Draco's eyes widened in horror when he glanced at the mess in the frying pan, and surely they weren't meant to smell like that, were they?

Kingsley sauntered over and wrapped his arms around Draco, standing behind him.

'Maybe we could cook together baby? That could be fun, couldn't it? I can hardly expect you to do all the work.' Kingsley offered hopefully.

Draco was reluctant to admit defeat but he really didn't know what on earth he was going to do with those onions which could be deadly poison by now.

'Only if you want to.' Draco replied. 'You've been working all day.'

'Yeah, but I like cooking.' Kingsley said. 'And I like being with you. So, let's do this together.'

Kingsley assertively kissed Draco on the lips and smiled. Hopefully he could salvage the meal!

'If you like.' Draco smiled, actually a little relieved as the idea of cooking whilst Kingsley watched him seemed far more intimidating than he had realised it would be.

'I think those onions are a bit burned.' Kingsley said gently. When Draco looked crestfallen he added. 'It's probably my fault for distracting you with flowers when you had just started cooking. It's ok though, I can cut some more.'

Sheepishly, Draco removed the offending onions from the pan while Kinglsey located a couple more and began to cut them roughly.

'The book says 1cm cubes.' Draco pointed out anxiously as Kinglsey was cutting all kinds of shapes and sizes.

'I'll chop them nice and small, don't worry.' Kingsley replied, turning the knife and chopping back over them, making them far smaller than 1cm.

'They are smaller than 1cm now.' Draco said trying to sound untroubled but needing to clarify this. 'Will they be alright?'

'Oh, they'll cook down fine.' Kingsley replied, tossing them into the pan and moving them round a bit with a spatula. 'They don't need to be exact, it's not potions after all.'

Draco laughed an unconvincing laugh.

'Of course not!' He replied awkwardly, busying himself studying the cooking instructions on the pasta box.

Kingsley stared at him as the penny dropped.

'Draco... You've never actually cooked before, have you?' He observed.

Draco's expression went from indignation to shock to a defeated sulky pout. There was no point trying to lie to the minister for magic!

Kingsley looked at Draco with his adorable, cross expression and he realised that Draco had set this whole scene up to try to do something nice, to try and be 'normal'. To try to impress him and to seem as though he could cook when really he didn't have a clue. In the future, Kingsley would come to describe this as the exact moment that he fell completely in love with Draco Malfoy.

Kingsley abandoned the onions for a moment and hugged Draco tightly, kissing the top of his head affectionately.

'Hey, it's ok baby. I can teach you all about it if you like.' He said kindly.

He felt Draco smile and nod.

Kingsley stepped back and taking Draco's hand, led him over to the stove. He handed Draco the spatula and guided him to stir the softening onions.

'Now the first thing you need to know about cooking is that it isn't an exact art like potions. Sure, there are some recipes that are a bit more precise than others, but generally it's good to be quite relaxed about cooking. Follow your instincts. Once you get some experience you probably won't even use a recipe book at all...'

Draco had paid close attention to everything Kingsley said and he had tried his best not to be distracted by Kingsley's luscious deep voice, nor by the fact that Kingsley was standing behind him, holding him as they worked.

Kingsley reached over and sprinkled a little brown sugar onto the onions.

'A little sugar gives them a nice sweetness, caramelises them a bit.' He explained.

Draco nodded, taking it all very seriously, watching with fascination as the sugar melted and began to bubble.

They worked quite well together as it turned out. As Draco relaxed a little and got over the bruises to his pride at having been found out, it really became quite fun. Then, all of a sudden, Kingsley had a question.

'Draco baby, can I ask you something?'

'Sure.' Draco replied as he happily stirred the béchamel sauce. he'd been rather good at making this and he was quite pleased as Kingsley had said it was the hardest part of the recipe.

Kingsley looked serious all of a sudden.

'I just wondered...' he began, unsure if he should ask at all. 'How did you survive all that time on your own at the Manor if you don't know how to cook?'

Draco looked a bit shocked, but only for a second. He hadn't been expecting a question about the past, but it was a harmless one and he didn't resent Kingsley for asking it.

'I ate stuff that didn't need cooking.' He answered simply. 'We had stores of cereals, oats and things, you can eat them with just water on. And we had frozen stuff too, I defrosted things, but you're right, I don't even know any cooking spells, so it was pretty bad. There were fruit trees in the grounds, but I didn't dare go outside to get stuff. Sometimes I could accio things from a window, but yeah... I think the malnutrition started before I was actually kept prisoner to be honest.'

Now it was Kingsley's turn to fall silent for a second. He shouldn't have asked if he didn't want to know, it was just that he hated to think of Draco going through that experience, especially now that he had fallen for him. He almost wanted to go and get a Time Turner from the ministry, travel back in time and stride in and rescue Draco from having to go through any of it. However, somehow, the way the timeline had unfolded had led he and Draco to become lovers. To be together in the apartment with the whole night in front of them. Kingsley wouldn't risk changing anything! This wasn't about the past, it was about the future.

'Well I'm happy to teach you anything you want to learn.' Kingsley said, giving Draco a hug, although Draco wouldn't give him a proper hug in return as he was still tending his sauce.

'How come you can cook so well?' Draco asked with a grin, ready to lighten the mood.

'OK, don't laugh...' Kingsley began.

Draco instantly laughed.

'Hey!' Kingsley chided him.

'Sorry.' Draco said.

'Don't laugh.' Kingsley told him again. 'OK, when I was a child I wanted to be a chef.'

Draco laughed. And then apologised.

'You wanted to be a chef, but you became an auror?'

'I was very young at the time.' Kingsley told him. 'I used to sneak into the kitchen and watch the house elves cooking. I thought they had the best job in the world!'

Draco laughed again.

'I just liked how creative it looked.' Kingsley said. 'And food always seemed to make people happy. So when I got older I taught myself how to cook. It was worth it. It always impresses people.' He concluded.

Draco raised his eyebrows.

'I bet it does!' He smiled. 'Part of your seduction technique, is it?'

Kingsley finished assembling the dish and slid it into the oven.

'Hummmm... I never thought about it like that.' He said with a grin. 'Does it work for you... Because we have 45 minutes before that's gonna be ready, so...'

Kingsley sauntered over to Draco and slipped his arms around his waist, drawing him in close for a real kiss.

Kingsley pressed his lips over Draco's sweet pink pout and sucked gently, feeling Draco's lips curl into a smile as he did so. He drew back for a second giving Draco the chance to part his lips and stand on tiptoes, reaching up for more kisses.

Kingsley grinned and kissed Draco again, slipping his tongue into his mouth, teasing him, flicking over his lips playfully.

It was clearly hard for Draco to reach up for Kingsley and hard for Kingsley to stoop down to Draco for long, so in a flash Kingsley lifted Draco up and sat him on a clear patch of kitchen counter. From here, Draco was almost exactly the same height as him. Kingsley wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and held him tightly.

Draco smiled at him playfully and leant in for more kisses. Draco lightly touched their lips together in short, soft kisses and then bit gently at Kingsley's lower lip keeping his touch light and teasing.

'So we have 45 minutes before dinner...?' Draco said between kisses. 'However should we use the time?'

'I can think of a good way...' Kingsley answered, his hand running up Draco's leg, over his thigh and round towards his ass.

'Doing the washing up?' Draco suggested with mock innocence.

'You wanna wash up baby?' Kingsley laughed as his hand moved towards Draco's crotch.

Draco keened up into his touch.

'Nah!' he said dismissively. 'I've never really washed up properly either and I've no desire to learn.'

Kingsley laughed and kissed Draco's neck.

'You spoilt little rich boy!' He teased.

'Oh yes!' Draco replied as Kingsley nibbled at him. 'Spoilt, high maintenance and selfish to the core!'

Kingsley laughed. Sure, Draco was only half joking, but how ever spoilt Draco might be, Kingsley knew he could handle him. And Draco may be a little selfish, it would probably be good for him to be a little selfish after what he'd been through. However, anyone who went to such an elaborate pretence to give the impression they could confidently cook for someone was clearly not **100 percent** selfish!

Kingsley's kisses on Draco's neck were turning Draco on immensely and Kingsley felt Draco's cock growing hard under his hand. He fondled Draco through his clothing. Draco moaned needily, glad that sex was still very much on the cards. All this grown up dating was fine, but he was 17 years old and very horny, especially now he was dating a gorgeous and sophisticated older man! He could hardly be expected to wait until bedtime, could he?

Fortunately, Kingsley didn't want to wait either.

'You look real pretty tonight, baby...' He whispered to Draco.

Draco giggled.

'You look gorgeous!' He replied, admiring Kingsley in his regal red robes.

'You know what would make you look even better?' Kingsley grinned.

'What?' Draco whispered.

'If you were naked.' Kingsley said flatly.

There was a pause.

Draco laughed for a second and then he disentangled himself from Kingsley's embrace. He jumped down from the side board and slowly began to undress. Slowly, one garment at a time, a playful seductive pout on his face, Draco removed his clothes. He was no stranger to this sort of thing, but this felt so different than ever before.

Kingsley was a little shocked at how quick Draco was to respond to the suggestion, but he wasn't about to stop him. He leant back against the counter in a casual manner and watched his beautiful little playmate, slowly remove his robes with a smouldering coquettish expression on his face.

Draco dropped his clothes carelessly on the floor, knowing it was immaculately clean. Completely naked, he sauntered over to Kingsley and turned to lean his back against him.

'Is this better, minister?' He drawled smugly.

'Oh, much better!' Kingsley replied, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist, holding him firmly before one hand moved down to his cock. He caressed Draco's hard cock slowly and buried his face against Draco's neck, kissing and teasing him, making Draco squirm with pleasure.

Draco played his part too, enjoying feeling confident and sexy. He rested his head back against Kingsley's chest and looked up at him with a sultry, pouty smile. He writhed against him, reaching back and working his hand under Kingsley's robes. Draco could already feel Kingsley's cock, hard and pressing into his back. His hand quickly found its way there.

Draco wrapped his elegant fingers around the thick shaft and with a sexy little sigh he began to work it up and down the length. He did not grip tightly and his caresses were light. He smiled.

'Really minister! I thought you were coming round for a sophisticated dinner this evening!' Draco whispered as they toyed with each other. 'It seems you only have your mind on one thing!'

'You're the one who's naked!' Kingsley replied with a playful chuckle.

'You **told** me to be naked.' Draco answered with a smile. 'And I have to do what you say, because not only are you my landlord, you're also the minister for magic!'

Kingsley laughed. It was ok to laugh and to joke about this now, now that they both knew how they really felt.

'In which case Draco...' Kingsley began, 'I'd like you to bend over that sideboard right there and let me get at that gorgeous ass of yours.'

Draco, who had been trying his best to do his confident courtesan act, was a little bit embarrassed and shocked by Kingsley's directness but he tried his best not to show it. Besides, he rather liked it too. Being told what to do by Kingsley was a huge turn on! Summoning every scrap of confidence, Draco strutted to the clear patch of sideboard and, arching his back provocatively, he bent over.

'Damn, you're hot!' Kingsley exclaimed as he sauntered over to Draco, slipping out of his own robes as he did so, taking hold of Draco's hips and pressing up against him.

Draco glanced back at his lover, looking over his shoulder in a seductive way. He was so glad he did! It was impossible not to stare! Kingsley was ever more gorgeous than he remembered! Draco could see him better here, in the middle of the kitchen, in broad daylight, than he had been able to in the ambient lighting of the bedroom. His body was incredible! Sensual dark skin smooth and tight over well defined muscles. His scar a sign of his bravery and courage.

Draco shivered with desire as Kingsley's strong hands caressed his back and moved down to his peachy ass cheeks. Kingsley traced the cleft of Draco's ass with his finger, enjoying the perfection of his beautiful soft skin. He pressed the tip of his finger to Draco's puckered little hole.

Draco pushed back eagerly against him. He had been desperately horny all afternoon waiting for Kingsley to arrive. This could not come soon enough!

His skin was still slightly slippery from the oil he had applied after his bath and it was all too easy for Kingsley to slip his finger inside him. He pushed in gently opening up the tight little ring of muscle. Draco gasped out loud as he felt himself being penetrated.

'You don't want to wait this evening, do you baby?' Kingsley teased as he fingered Draco's hole gently.

'Neither do you!' Draco replied, feeling Kingsley's erection against his ass cheek.

'True.' Kingsley admitted, taking hold of his own cock. 'I've been thinking about fucking you all day long!'

Draco giggled as Kingsley continued to touch him, moving his finger inside, exploring his passage.

'So when the affairs of the wizarding world are in chaos, it will be all my fault for being such a distraction?' Draco suggested.

'Entirely your fault!' Kingsley agreed. 'All I can seem to think about is fucking your sweet ass and making you come. I love feeling you come when I'm in you.'

'Mmmmmmm...' Draco moaned. 'So, fuck me then, I'm all yours.'

Kingsley needed no further encouragement, he withdrew his finger from Draco, whispered a lubrication charm guided the head of his rigid cock to Draco's ass. He slowly pushed inside him, loving being able to watch every erotic second as his cock breached Draco's hole and he buried his full length deep inside him.

Draco gasped with pleasure at the feeling of incredible fullness. It felt delicious, it felt amazing to be filled so completely. It would have felt frightening if he hadn't felt so completely safe with his new lover. Draco trusted Kingsley not to hurt him and so the sensation of being stretched by his huge cock was truly delightful.

Kingsley drew his hips back and almost pulled right out of Draco, purely so that he could enjoy watching his cock slide back in again.

'Gods, yes!' Kingsley whispered as he repeatedly slid in and out of Draco's well lubricated asshole. He gripped Draco's hip with one hand and held firmly onto the kitchen side with the other. He thrust back and forth into his dear little Draco, savouring every moment of the sweet sensation.

Draco was driven wild by Kingsley's slow purposeful thrusts which provided a firm and repetitive assault on his prostate. He whimpered with pleasure each time the head of Kingsley's cock pushed against the bundle of nerves in his ass and his own cock twitched with pleasure, pre come seeping from the tip.

'How do you like it, baby?' Kingsley whispered to him. 'Do you like it slow or fast, do you want it gentle or do you like it hard?'

Draco gasped as he tried to answer.

'I like it slow, and then fast...' He managed. 'Gentle at first and then hard. I like it however you like to give it!'

'I'd like to fuck you in every possible way!' Kingsley hissed. 'Every position, in every room, over every piece of furniture... Gods, Draco! I could make fucking you a full time job!' Kingsley half growled as the speed and force of his thrusts began to increase.

Draco wanted to give a smart sassy answer, but as Kingsley began to fuck him harder he found it more and more difficult to form cohesive sentences.

Kingsley could feel his climax building and he began to pound Draco's ass furiously. Draco used all his strength to brace himself against the side board.

'Fuck! Fuck, that's good!' Draco yelped as Kingsley's thrusts pushed him back and forth like a little rag doll.

'You really do like a good hard fuck, don't you?' Kingsley growled.

'Gods, Yes!' Draco gasped in incoherent reply.

Kingsley let go of Draco's hips and reached for his cock. Kingsley cupped Draco's hard cock in his large hand and rubbed back and forth, giving Draco the stimulation he needed to reach his climax.

'Aaaaahhh...!' Draco cried, as the contact with his cock and the hammering of Kingsley's dick against his prostate pushed him over the edge to a spectacular orgasm. He came hard into Kingsley's hand.

Draco's lovely little body trembling as he came while Kingsley was inside him was enough to rip a climax from Kingsley too. He had wanted to hold on a little longer, he had not wanted it to be over so soon, but he couldn't hold back any longer. In seconds he was filling Draco's twitching passage with his come, pumping it into him in rapid spurts, holding Draco tightly at the hips again as he did so.

Trembling and panting, Draco flopped bodily down against the work surface and Kingsley went with him, although he was careful not to squash him! They rested there for a few moments before Kingsley recovered himself.

'Wow!' He uttered, standing up and reaching for his wand in the pockets of his robe. 'That was amazing! You're amazing, baby!'

Draco was on the verge of being delirious. He was recovering from the intense pleasure he felt, the sheer ecstasy he had experienced. Somewhere in his mind was the growing euphoria and almost disbelief at what was happening in his life.

Less than 3 months ago he had been a helpless and pathetic slave, held captive by the Dark Lord. He had been in a dreadful state, physically and mentally, battling with potion addiction when he had been rescued. he had then stood trial as a criminal. He contrasted that life to the one he was beginning to live now. He lived in a beautiful apartment in a majestic building in the very best part of magical London. He was soon to receive a large sum of money. Whilst it would never make up for the home and family he had lost, he had an amazing new life emerging from the ashes of the old one which had been destroyed. He had a new lover. A fantastic, gorgeous, incredible new lover; the minister for magic! They had just cooked dinner together and then had spontaneous hot sex right there in the kitchen. How on earth was this his life? Draco almost felt dizzy. He began to giggle.

Kingsley was putting on his robes when he noticed Draco, still flopped onto the sideboard, laughing. Kingsley was relieved to see he was laughing, as for a split second he had though he was crying. He looked at him with a puzzled frown.

'You alright, baby?' He asked.

Draco couldn't answer, the whole thing just seemed funnier and funnier. He nodded through his laughter.

Kingsley looked puzzled.

'You crazy thing!' He grinned, casting a cleaning spell over Draco.

It tickled, which did nothing to help the giggling.

'Hummm...' Kingsley mused. 'On Wednesday you cried because you were happy. Today you're laughing right after sex... Can't say I've ever known anyone do that before!' It was a little unnerving!

'I'm... sorry!' Draco managed, looking up from the sideboard. 'I'm happy.' He assured him.

'Good. I'm glad.' Kingsley said, ruffling Draco's hair affectionately. 'I'm gonna go sit down with a glass of wine now, I think. You gonna join me when you're done being crazy?' He kissed him.

Draco made an effort to compose himself and he dressed hurriedly. Laughing like a crazy person didn't fit with his plan to appear grown up and sophisticated! Calm once more and keen to impress, he hurried over to Kingsley and cuddled up beside him with a glass of wine. Draco wasn't too keen on red wine, but Kingsley drank it and it did seem like a very mature thing to drink. Draco was sure he could train himself to like it.

Dinner was far less of a disaster than it could have been. Kingsley's cooking skills had saved the day, and whilst it wasn't the best meal either of them had ever eaten, it certainly wasn't the worst. Never the less, Draco apologised for it later that night as they got ready for bed.

'I'm sorry about dinner.' He said bashfully.

Kingsley laughed.

'Don't be sorry. It was pretty adorable that you wanted to cook for me at all. Even more so that you tried when you didn't know how.' He replied.

Draco laughed.

'I can't cook at all, can I?' Draco admitted.

'Let's just say, you kiss better than you cook!' Kingsley teased.

Draco gave him a playful punch.

'I did my best!' He pouted.

'You did great!' Kingsley told him as the snuggled into the huge bed. 'And you'll learn. I'll teach you.'

'It was fun tonight.' Draco replied with a grin.

'Which bit?' Kingsley asked.

'All of it.' Draco said earnestly. 'It was all fun. I think I like having dates with you.'

Kingsley hugged him tightly and kissed him.

'I'm glad to hear it.' He smiled as they snuggled down into the bed. It would be difficult, but Kingsley was determined to get at least some sleep that night. They had the whole weekend ahead of them. Their first weekend together! Kingsley wanted to make the most of every second of it. It was going to be the start of something big!


	11. Chapter 11

Draco was awake before Kingsley on Saturday morning and he was as quiet as he could be as he tiptoed to the bathroom to freshen up. When he returned, Kingsley was still sleeping. Draco stared for a few moments, again needing a reality check. The minister for magic really was sleeping in his bed, having just spent the night with him.

Kingsley had been very good at taking care of him these last few days and Draco decided the least he could do in return was go and make some coffee. He crept to the kitchen, confident that he could at least get coffee right, even if cannelloni was beyond him.

Fresh black coffee made and poured into two white coffee cups, Draco, clad only in a pair of silk boxer shorts, made his way back to the bedroom. Now, Kingsley was sitting up in bed and he beamed a wonderful, warm smile at Draco as he returned with coffee.

'Just when I thought you couldn't get any more perfect, you bring me coffee in bed!' Kingsley exclaimed as Draco handed him a cup. Kingsley kissed him on the cheek. 'Good morning, beautiful.' He added.

Draco blushed a little as he walked back around the bed, taking a sip of his coffee before placing the cup on the night stand. He climbed onto the bed.

Kingsley swallowed a large swig of coffee and placed his cup down also. He tilted his head on one side and looked at Draco.

'Gods! You really are gorgeous, aren't you!' He exclaimed sounding awestruck.

Draco was genuinely taken back. He frowned and shifted his weight so he could see his reflection in the dressing table mirror opposite them.

'Really?!' He mused, looking at himself in the glass. He could see Kingsley looking at him too. 'Don't you think I'm a bit... pale and scrawny?' He concluded, glancing back at his lover.

Kingsley grinned a little sheepishly.

'To be honest Draco, I'm... I'm kinda into that look. It's my "thing".' He replied.

Draco's eyebrows raised and his face broke into a playful smile. He moved towards Kingsley.

'Really?' He asked as he climbed onto Kingsley's lap. 'Am I your fetish, minister?' He drawled as he looped his arms around Kingsley's neck.

'Oh, yes! Certainly!' Kingsley said. He wasn't even going to try and deny it. He laughed and kissed Draco on the lips, lightly, then more meaningfully.

Draco smiled against Kingsley's mouth and his eyes fluttered closed while he kissed him.

'You **are** my fetish, baby. But you're so much more than that too! I'm crazy about you.' Kingsley replied.

Draco stopped still, shocked by what Kingsley had said.

'Really?' He asked again.

'Really.' Kingsley said calmly.

Draco laughed and cuddled up to Kingsley for a moment. He could feel himself blushing at the compliments.

'I feel the same.' He whispered at last.

Kingsley hugged him firmly, his big strong arms gripping Draco tightly to him.

'Well that's very convenient, isn't it?' He whispered happily.

Smiling, Draco disentangled himself from Kingsley's arms and climbed off his lap. They both took another sip of coffee. Draco sat beside Kingsley , leaning back against the headboard.

'So...' Kingsley began. 'It's Saturday, I don't have to go to work. What would you like to do today?'

Draco paused and thought. Surely the options were somewhat limited, weren't they?

'I don't know.' He replied. 'I usually try to practice some magic every day, I'm still getting back into the swing of it, you see. Other than that, I read, and just generally stay in the apartment. I'm not very exciting, I suppose. Although staying in the apartment would be a lot more fun with you there too!' Draco added playfully.

'Well...' Said Kingsley, taking hold of his hand. 'I think it would do you good to get out of the apartment a little more.'

'I am trying.' Draco assured him. 'I go for walks and stuff, it's just, until I have my money there isn't much for me to do outside.'

'True.' Kingsley admitted. 'What will you do first when you have your money?' He asked with a smile.

Draco thought for a moment.

'OK, I know it sounds shallow...' He began. 'But I'll probably buy clothes.' He grinned at Kingsley. 'It's not that you don't have perfect taste in robes, because you clearly do! But that one set of robes you gave me is literally all I have. All I have that actually fits me anyway. There are some clothes I found in the apartment, but I really want to go and buy some lovely new things for myself.'

Kingsley smiled, imagining the scene. Beautiful Draco dressing up in fine garments, picking out the ones he liked best. He would be like a perfect little dress up doll.

'That sounds like fun!' He replied. 'You know, I could come with you for that, help you pick out the best things. I do have perfect taste, as you know!'

Draco laughed, not really considering this a serious suggestion. As if the minister for magic would have time to go clothes shopping with him!

'What about today though?' Kingsley pressed the point. 'What do you want to do today?'

'I don't know.' Draco shrugged. 'What do you want to do?'

'How about we head up town and get some breakfast first?' Kingsley began. 'Then there's an exhibition at the Gallery of Enchanted Artworks I've been meaning to go and see, if you fancy that? Then maybe...'

He stopped suddenly as he noticed that Draco's mouth had fallen open and he was staring at him like he had just suggested they go Hippogriff hunting, or run naked up Diagon Alley.

'What?' Kinsgley asked. 'What's the matter?'

'Are you crazy?' Draco exclaimed, recovering from his shock.

Kingsley frowned.

'Not last time I checked, no.' He replied.

'I think you are!' Draco said flatly.

'Why?' Kingsley said earnestly.

Draco gasped, a little exasperated.

'Kingsley...' He said sincerely, 'We can't go out together, you know, in public!'

'Why not?' Kingsley asked directly, a little crestfallen at Draco's reaction.

'You're the minister for magic!' Draco almost snapped. 'You can't be seen to be involved with... someone like me!'

This was serious, Kingsley realised. If Draco really felt this way, it was a real problem as Kingsley had every intention of being involved with him, and what was more he didn't care who knew it. Not simply to prove Aarion wrong, but because he was confident enough in his credentials as minister that he was not concerned about the thought of gossip about his personal life. He turned to face Draco and took hold of his hands.

'Draco, what part of _'I'm crazy about you'_ did you not understand?' He said calmly. 'Yes, I'm the minister for magic, but I **am** involved with you and I'm proud to be with you. I don't care who knows it. I want to walk down the street with you, take you out for dinner at the best restaurants, have you be my guest at ministry events...' He explained.

Draco's face flushed with panic.

'You can't!' He almost sobbed. 'I won't let you. I won't let you jeopardise your career over a worthless little tramp like me!'

Kingsley looked hurt, as though he had just been personally attacked.

'Let's get one thing straight.' He said firmly, taking hold of Draco's shoulders. 'I'll let you get away with pretty much anything you wanna do, but I won't let you talk about yourself in that way!'

'It's what people think.' Draco whispered tearfully, not sure how he felt about being told off by his lover.

'It's **not** what people think.' Kingsley insisted.

'I read the papers.' Draco answered, fighting his corner. 'I saw the photos in the Quibbler and I read what they wrote. They implied there was only one possible reason the Dark Lord kept me alive, and well, they were right, weren't they?'

'It was in the Quibbler, Draco.' Kingsley sighed. 'No one in their right mind believes anything they read in the Quibbler!'

'They weren't the only ones who said it.' Draco pointed out. 'The prophet printed a picture of me that week too. They didn't say much, but the described me as having been the Dark Lord's 'captive slave'. That's certainly not how they describe Ollivander, or Griphook, is it? People know, or at least, they're guessing. You can't be seen with me. Think of the scandal!'

Kingsley was silent for a moment. Draco was right, right about what had been in the papers at least. People **were** guessing. Many people believed it as fact without evidence or confirmation. _The Dark Lord had kept Draco Malfoy as a sex slave._ People knew. Well, they didn't know exactly, because it was unconfirmed, but they **believed** it. However, Draco wasn't hated by the public. Certainly the Malfoy name didn't make him immediately popular, but after everything he had been through he had a growing amount of public sympathy. It probably helped that he was beautiful too. People felt naturally predisposed to like him. These things aside, Draco was clearly very sensitive about what people thought of him, and somewhere in his emotional outburst was a real genuine concern for Kingsley's welfare.

Kingsley sighed.

'OK Draco.' He began. 'I need you to be honest with me. Where do you see this relationship going if you feel so strongly that we can't ever be seen together?'

Draco felt his heart almost stop at this direct question. He hadn't thought about it like that. He felt like he was up against a wall. If they couldn't be seen together then what future was there for them? He wanted a future for them, desperately. He simply didn't want to ruin Kingsley's professional future in the process!

'I... I didn't say we couldn't **ever** be seen together.' Draco managed. 'I just think it's a bit soon. Maybe once things settle down a bit, once people have forgotten about me, it would be alright?'

Draco looked so tearful and pleading that Kingsley couldn't help but pull him into a comforting hug for a moment.

'Listen baby, I know about newspapers. They never forget. The moment we're seen together they'll be talking about everything they know about both of us. It's unavoidable I'm afraid. But the up side is, they soon get bored of it if you just rise above it. I know it's going to be tough for you, and I don't want to put pressure on you. They will talk about your family being death eaters, they will speculate about you and the Dark Lord. It will be hard, but I'll be beside you every moment, supporting you. I'll stand by you, baby.'

Draco sobbed silently.

'I knew when I came to office as minister that I would be giving up my privacy.' Kingsley told him. 'And I vowed not to be afraid of it, not to let it control my life. As far as I'm concerned, I can walk down the street with you, the papers can wonder about just how close we are... I don't care.'

Draco half smiled. It was impossible not to when Kingsley was being so nice and so compassionate.

'You don't care because it won't be **you** they hate.' Draco pointed out gently. 'You're the good one. I'm the bad one. I know what people will say. They'll say that I'm a devious little snake. In true Slytherin fashion, using people and taking advantage of them to get what I want. And they'll continue to see you as the brave, courageous, loyal Gryffindor and they'll wonder what on earth you see in me.'

Kingsley raised his eyebrows and a smile crept across his face.

'What on earth makes you think I was in Gryffindor?' He asked.

Draco glanced obviously at the crimson and gold robes Kingsley had been wearing the night before.

'Everything!' He exclaimed. 'You were an auror! You're brave and selfless. You're a good person. You must be a Gryffindor.'

Kingsley chuckled.

'I wasn't in Gryffindor.' He told Draco. 'And don't let the red and gold robes fool you. I'm a little too old to dress exclusively in house colours, I grew out of that one. I wear what looks good.'

Draco couldn't argue with that.

'Were you Ravenclaw then?' Draco asked, curious and distracted from the main topic of discussion.

'No.' Kingsley replied. 'No. I was in Slytherin house, same as you.'

Draco's mouth was open in shock again.

'So you see...' Kingsley continued... 'I'm a devious little snake too. You don't get the top job at the ministry without being a little bit cunning and ambitious, you know.'

Draco laughed. There were a couple of tears in his eyes, but he laughed and flung himself into Kingsley's arms. It was silly, it shouldn't have mattered so much, but somehow it made Draco feel so much better to know that Kingsley, the most popular minister for magic possibly of all time, had been in Slytherin house, just like him. It made being in Slytherin one less badge of shame to carry around.

Kingsley caressed Draco firmly and gently and affectionately kissed his cheek.

'So you see, we can be cunning serpents together, and it doesn't mean we're bad people.' Kingsley soothed.

Draco laughed, but then he sat back and looked at Kingsley.

'I really do want to be with you.' He said sincerely. 'But I don't want to drag you into a scandal.'

'I think scandal is too strong a word, you know.' Kingsley pointed out. 'I'm not saying there won't be gossip, but there's no reason for a scandal. We are both free to see whoever we want. I say we go for it. We go out together today and let them see us. Publish and be damned!'

Kingsley grinned, hoping he had managed to persuade Draco. Draco had certainly seemed heartened by the Slytherin revelation.

Draco still looked anxious.

'Maybe we could go to muggle London?' He suggested as a compromise. 'We still might be seen together, but it would be a little less obvious. Just until the settlement is out of the papers and old news. Just for the next few weeks... If you still want to see me in a few weeks, that is?' Draco added meekly.

'Less of that!' Kingsley chastised him. 'Of course I'll still want to see you in a few weeks. And, yes, OK. Muggle London it is. Like I said, I don't want to pressure you into anything, but I don't want to hide away either. This plan works for both of us.' He smiled and hugged Draco tightly.

Draco smiled too and hugged him back although he was far from confident about this decision.

'So... Muggle London...' Kingsley mused. 'I spent some time working there as an auror. Just so happens I know the place to get the best breakfasts in the whole city! It's not a swanky place, a little hidden away, but it's the best, trust me.'

Draco was a little more reassured by this. A little back street cafe in muggle London. They were unlikely to bump into any other wizards there!

'This is the place.' Kingsley announced, apparating them near to an elegant little street in the Westminster district.

Draco enjoyed apparating with Kingsley, there was a feeling of closeness to it, but he made a vow to take his apparition test as soon as possible as it really was the most convenient way to get anywhere.

The two of them surreptitiously emerged from the alleyway where they had appeared so as to not be noticed by the muggles. Draco tried not to stare at them... only... he had never actually **been** to a muggle town before. He watched them intently. They hurried around busily, sometimes in small groups, talking into small electronic devices, chatting and laughing together. Draco was captivated by them. Some of them looked, well, quite nice. Quite normal, quite sophisticated. They didn't look like the savages he'd been led to imagine. He held tightly onto Kingsley's arm none the less. When one muggle man smiled at him he was too shocked to smile back and then wondered if the man had noticed and if he would feel upset. Draco told himself to just pretend they were all normal, magical people as that might help him act inconspicuously. He said nothing to Kingsley of course. Muggle acceptance was the order of the day and Draco fully intended to fall into line with that. It was just a little strange as he had been raised to hate and fear them. This was quite an adjustment. He was very glad he had Kingsley with him as Kingsley clearly understood muggle ways.

They approached the clean and neat little diner. It was not the back street dive Draco had imagined, but still he felt safe there. Muggle London was so busy they seemed to blend into the crowd and no one they knew would be here.

The cafe was busy, it was evidently a popular spot. There was a long queue to order food and there were no obvious tables free.

They stepped through the door and Kingsley glanced around, determined to avoid using magic to make anyone leave as that was unethical and would set a bad example to Draco.

'Wow! Busy today!' He observed, looking around.

Suddenly a voice hailed him.

'Minist... Kingsley!' The voice corrected itself just in time. 'Over here!'

Someone was waving from a table in the window. Draco's heart froze.

It was Harry Potter.

'Harry!' Kingsley beamed, walking over, Draco in tow.

'You can have my table if you like, minister.' Harry offered. 'I'm just finishing this coffee, then I'm going.'

'Thank you Harry. That's very kind of you. I get the feeling we would have been waiting a while otherwise!' Kingsley replied.

The word 'we' prompted Harry to look for the other person to whom Kingsley was referring, particularly when he remembered that Kingsley had had his date last night with _'someone special'_.

Draco had been doing his best to hide behind Kingsley, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to get away with that forever. He braced himself. He had to get this right. If there was one person in the whole of the wizarding world who was more influential than the minister for magic, it was Harry Potter. Saint Potter. The saviour. Draco needed him on side, or at least, get him not to hate him. His survival instincts kicked in quickly and he ordered his thoughts. If Kingsley was a Slytherin and he could make everyone love him, then why not Draco too? Draco decided to go on a charm offensive, if only he could work out what it was that Potter would want to hear. He decided humility might be a good starting point as Potter had always seemed something of a sap at school. Draco felt so shy and self conscious right now that humility would be relatively easy. He stepped out from behind Kingsley.

'Hello Potter.' He said sincerely and in a serious tone.

Harry's jaw almost hit the table. Perhaps Kingsley had a morning meeting with Malfoy about the settlement and had left his 'someone special' to come and meet Malfoy... No. No, they were arm in arm. Clearly, Malfoy was the 'someone special'. Harry gawped at them for a moment at the information sunk in, before realising he needed to respond.

'Malfoy.' He managed, and then added, 'Hello.' Not wanting to sound rude.

'You two know each other, of course.' Kingsley smiled. 'How about you sit down Draco, while I go and order food? You can have a catch up with Harry.' He suggested.

'Oh, sure.' Harry offered at once, not 100 percent sure how he felt about this, but wanting to be amenable to whatever the minister suggested.

'Thank you.' Said Draco coolly, and he took a seat opposite Harry.

Kingsley kissed Draco on the cheek.

'I'll be as quick as I can.' He smiled and he went to join the long queue.

Draco blushed a deep pink. He glanced at Harry, who looked as shell-shocked as Draco felt.

There was a moment of awkward silence as neither of them quite knew what to say. Draco, who felt he was arguably the one who had the most to lose if this interaction didn't go well, recovered himself first.

'So, Potter... Harry?' He said Harry's name questioningly as though he were asking for permission to be on first name terms. 'How are you?'

'Errr... I'm ok thanks. I'm good actually.' Harry replied, recovering a little. 'You?' He asked.

Draco nodded and looked a little reflective.

'Yeah. I'm doing ok.' He said in an enigmatic voice.

Harry pulled himself together now. This was Draco Malfoy he was speaking to. Draco Malfoy. The spoilt little rich kid who had hidden behind his parents wealth and power at every turn while he was at school. The boy who had been taken prisoner by the Dark Lord, and if rumours were to be believed... well... it didn't bare thinking about! The boy who had stood trial, been found innocent but had discovered his parents were dead and his home was destroyed. Suffice to say, he probably wasn't the quite the same Draco Malfoy he had been when they last saw each other.

Harry nodded slowly. He wasn't quite the same Harry Potter, either after all that he had experienced.

'I read about them finding you.' Harry said gently.

'Oh. Yes.' Draco said awkwardly.

'I'm sorry.' Harry offered. 'About all of it really, but especially about your parents.'

Draco looked at Harry properly for the first time. He seemed different than he had been. He was taller and boarder. His olive skin was tanned a little darker and he had some stubble on his chin and upper lip. His hair was still a disaster, Draco noted, but all in all, he seemed a lot less gawky and annoying. He sounded very sincere about being sorry for what Draco had been through. Of course, Harry's parents were dead too. Maybe this gave them something in common?

'Thank you.' Draco replied magnanimously. 'I miss them very much.'

'It must have been awful to find out like that.' Harry reflected and then thought perhaps it was insensitive to mention it.

'It was a shock.' Draco replied. 'Thinking about them was what got me through... well... you know. I almost can't believe I'll never see them again, even now. I can't quite believe they haven't just gone away on holiday or something and will come back in a month or so.' He sighed.

'I never knew my parents.' Harry said. 'But I don't know if your situation is almost worse. To have known them and to have lost them like that. I'm really sorry.'

'It's ok.' Draco said softly. 'Lots of people died, didn't they? I'm lucky I wasn't one of them. Yes, life is very different now, but I'm picking up the pieces.' He paused and couldn't help but glance at Kingsley across the room. 'And things aren't all bad.' Draco smiled.

Harry looked a little awkward for a moment.

'I had no idea, you know. About you and minister Shacklebolt.' He reflected.

'It's not common knowledge.' Draco replied. 'In fact, I was in favour of keeping it secret for a little while longer, just until the papers are fed up of talking about me. I don't want to make things difficult for Kingsley. But he's as stubborn as an ox, you know. He insisted we came out today. Says he doesn't mind who knows.' Draco smiled sadly. 'He's been so good to me, so patient and kind, I just hope I won't cause any trouble for him.'

'Is that why you're in muggle London?' Harry asked. 'To avoid being seen?'

Draco nodded.

'That was my plan, yeah.'

'Guess I've kind of messed that up for you.' Harry said apologetically. 'I won't tell anyone though, if you don't want me to.'

Draco smiled a very genuine smile.

'Thanks Potter.' he said.

'Call me Harry.'

'Harry.' Draco corrected himself. 'I heard you're training to be an auror?' Draco said, wanting to turn the conversation away from himself for a while.

'Oh, yeah.' Harry confirmed.

'How's it going?' Draco asked conversationally.

'Good.' Harry replied. 'Yeah, I love it. Just got back from training in Romania last week. Can't wait to get back out there. I'm really enjoying it.'

'I bet you're really good at it.' Draco smiled. Gryffindors like compliments.

'Thanks.' Harry said, a little baffled at receiving a compliment from Malfoy.

'Well, fighting bad guys is what you've always done.' Draco smiled. 'You're bound to be good at it.'

Harry laughed.

'Yeah. You'd have thought I'd have given myself a break now, wouldn't you?'

'I thought you might have wanted to become a Quidditch player, actually.' Draco replied.

Harry laughed again.

'Yeah, right! I was never that good!'

'I reckon you could have been, if you'd have gone a bit more tactical, and less... charge in and see what happens!' Draco said.

'Maybe.' Harry chuckled. 'Maybe the tactical auror training will help me there. What about you? What do you want to do?'

Draco thought hard.

'Well... I missed all of 5th year of school. I don't have my OWL's, so I might try and study for them if I can. Distance learning though. I don't think I could face going back to Hogwarts. Too many memories.' He mused.

Harry nodded in agreement.

'Ron, Hermione and I were lucky they accepted us into the aurors without our NEWT's. Hermione is studying for hers alongside the training, of course.' Harry told him.

Draco laughed.

'Can't say that surprises me.'

'Other than exams though...' Harry continued. 'What do you want to do?'

'I don't know.' Draco replied honestly. 'Maybe magical law, but, and I know this sounds a bit morbid, but I'm actually really interested in the town they're building where my house used to be. I'm going to own some of it as part of my settlement and I'm interested in how it's going to be planned and managed.' He shrugged, unsure if this was the sort of thing he could make a career of. It hardly measured up to being an auror.

'I could see you doing something like that. Being a landlord and doing town planning and things.' Harry replied. 'This is meant as a compliment, by the way, I could imagine you kind of owning a lot of stuff that makes money for you. Building a bit of a business empire from the comfort of your luxury flat without ever breaking a nail.' Harry realised he might have been a little over familiar with this comment and hoped he hadn't offended Draco by it.

To Harry's relief, Draco's face broke into a wide grin and he laughed.

'You know, I could probably count on one hand the number of civil conversations we've ever had with each other, but it's as if you know me already!'

Harry laughed, relieved that Draco took his remarks in good humour. He really **wasn't** the same Draco Malfoy Harry remembered from school.

'You know, I'm really glad we got the chance to talk.' Harry offered. 'I know we never got on at school, but...'

'School was a long time ago...?' Draco finished for him.

'Yeah.' said Harry. 'And I really felt dreadful when I read about you in the papers. No one deserves what you went through.'

Draco wasn't sure if Harry was fishing for information. They may have been getting along well but he didn't want to disclose any private information, nor confirm or deny any rumours.

'I know what people are saying about me.' Draco said flatly. He looked down at his hands, ashamed.

Harry flinched. He hadn't meant to pry. If it was true, he almost didn't want to know.

'He used to drug me, Harry.' Draco continued, and it was no word of a lie. 'He drugged me with potions, half the time I had no idea what was going on. That's why I was kept in St Mungos for so long. Potion addiction, well, potion dependency really. I was pretty ill with it for a while. That, and malnutrition.'

'Gods!' Harry exclaimed in a low voice.

'I guess the malnutrition is why I still look like a weedy little schoolboy while you look like an actual grown up.' Draco said with a grin, lightening the mood.

Harry laughed.

'I'm not even 17 yet, I don't think I look that grown up. But you haven't seen me since I was 14, and I guess the war has aged me!'

'It's aged all of us in different ways, I suppose.' Draco agreed.

For some reason, Harry couldn't quite rationalise it afterwards, he reached over and squeezed Draco's hand, just for a second. Draco looked shocked.

'I'm glad you're alright.' Harry said earnestly. 'And I'm glad we had the chance to talk, you know?'

'Me too.' Draco smiled.

He **was** glad. He was not only relieved that one more very influential person in the wizarding world didn't hate him, but it was nice to speak to someone his own age. He hadn't done that for well over a year! Plus, Potter was way less of an irritating prick than he remembered! If this little chat was anything to go by, well, they could possibly, maybe become friends!

Just then, Kingsley appeared at the table again with two cups of coffee.

'Sorry I was so long, baby.' He said to Draco and he sat down beside him. He turned to Harry. 'How was the aurors night out last night, Harry?' He asked with a grin.

'Oh, yeah... It was... Interesting!' Harry concluded. 'They party hard, don't they?'

Kingsley laughed.

'Work hard, play hard! Yes, they do!' He agreed.

'I left about 3.30 and I got the feeling they all thought I was really boring and sensible!' Harry said sadly. 'Ron stayed out. I don't know where they ended up, but I'm meant to be meeting him this morning. Don't know what state he's gonna be in!'

'Not a very good one, look!' Kingsley pointed outside the window where a rather worse-for-wear Ron Weasley was swaying back and forth, gawping in through the glass and looking like he was about to be sick.

'Merlin help me!' Harry exclaimed. 'I'd better go, I guess. I'm not bringing him in here in that state!'

'Probably for the best!' Kingsley agreed. 'It was good to see you Harry, and thanks for giving us your table!' He said as Harry stood up and pulled on his jacket.

'Yeah, you too.' Harry agreed. 'And it was nice to chat to you, Draco. Hopefully see you around?'

Draco nodded.

'Yes, you too!' He said. 'I'm sure we'll bump into each other again.'

Harry smiled. He hoped they would, because even from the short amount of time they had spent together he could see clearly that Draco was not the nasty little brat he remembered. As much as Harry loved Ron and Hermione, he was keen to make some new friends too... Especially since Ron and Hermione had started dating. It was surprisingly hard to make friends when you are 'the saviour' as everyone looks up to you in a sycophantic fashion. The conversation Harry had just had with Malfoy was one of the most normal conversations he had had for weeks. It had been most refreshing!

'Enjoy your breakfast.' Harry called as he left the cafe before Ron had the chance to come in.

Outside in the street Ron was still staring, mouth hanging open. He looked rather like a fish.

'You look dreadful.' Harry told him.

'Feel dreadful.' Ron responded. 'Harry, am I still drunk and hallucinating, or is that minister Shacklebolt with Draco Malfoy?'

'Oh, yeah, it is.' Harry said casually. He had promised not to tell anyone, so he tried to sound as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

However, Harry didn't need to tell Ron anything for at that moment, right before their very eyes, Kingsley kissed Draco on the cheek again and took hold of his hand. Ron stared in disbelief.

'Come on...' Harry urged, keen to get Ron away from the cafe as soon as possible.

Ron allowed himself to be dragged along by Harry, he was too hung over to fight him, but he stared back over his shoulder.

'Harry, did you see that?' He asked.

'What?' Said Harry, knowing perfectly well what Ron meant.

'They kissed!' Ron exclaimed. 'They kissed! You were talking to them mate, are they... you know... dating?' He stammered.

'Erm, I don't know. I guess so.' Harry replied in a non committal way.

Ron stopped in his track, forcing Harry to stop too.

'Wait just a minute.' He said sharply. 'Are you seriously telling me that Kingsley Shacklebolt is seeing Draco Malfoy?'

'You saw them.' Harry said flatly. 'What does it matter anyway?'

He wanted to end this conversation.

'Draco Malfoy!' Ron exclaimed. 'Son of two convicted death eaters?!'

'You can't judge him by his parents, Ron! Look at Sirius...' Harry pointed out.

'Sirius was never a dick to people like Malfoy was!' Ron said, shocked.

'He's changed I think.' Harry said, sincerely. 'After everything he's been through he's...'

'And that's another thing!' Ron interrupted. 'Everyone's saying he was Voldemort's sex slave!'

'Even if he was, that's hardly his fault, is it? I don't imagine Voldemort would have given him much choice in the matter!' Harry retorted. 'Anyway, just because everyone is saying it, doesn't mean it's even true! I was _'the boy who lies'_ and _'undesirable number 1'_ for a while, if you remember!'

This argument seemed to silence Ron for a moment.

'But Kingsley though!' Ron gasped. 'Why would he date Malfoy? Kingsley's one of the good guys!'

'Did you learn nothing in training?' Harry asked. 'Remember that big talk they gave us at the start? About how it's not always as simple as good vs evil? There are forces for good and forces for evil and there are people who get caught up somewhere in-between. They are the ones to watch, they need the most protection. Draco's a perfect example of that, isn't he? His parents bought him up to think like they did. When he was a child he had no reason not to trust their opinions, I guess. But when it came to it, he doesn't believe what they did. He isn't a bad person... And, you said it yourself, Kingsley isn't an easy person to hoodwink. He clearly thinks Draco is alright. I didn't talk to Draco for very long, but you know what, I think he's alright now, too.'

I'm not convinced.' Ron muttered crossly as Harry hastily dragged him away to sober up.


	12. Chapter 12

After breakfast, Kingsley took Draco sightseeing around muggle London. Draco was fascinated. Muggles really weren't at all like he had been led to believe. They visited the national gallery and Draco marvelled at the art that had been created, some of it actually by muggles! They rode on the London Eye, which terrified Draco completely as he didn't understand at all how it worked. Luckily they had a private VIP pod, so when Draco was frightened there was no reason not to hug him tightly and kiss him to calm him down. They walked along south bank and looked at the graffiti. Kingsley told Draco a little about the culture behind it and Draco, fascinated, hung on his every word. They made their way up to Covent Garden where they had an amazing late lunch from a Mexican street food stall. It was late afternoon when they made their way back to the apartment.

Back at home, they cuddled on the sofa and chatted for several hours. They shared a bottle of wine, and when it got late and they realised they had missed dinner, Kingsley made up a platter of cheese and biscuits which they ate in the sitting room, with a second bottle of wine.

By the end of the second bottle, although Kingsley had had the lions share, it was fair to say that Draco was a little drunk. He was happy drunk. Kingsley was certainly tipsy. Together they staggered to the bedroom, undressed clumsily, fell into bed and had some rather uncoordinated drunken sex, Draco giggling intermittently throughout. Afterwards it was hard to say whether they passed out or fell asleep in each other's arms. Either way, they were both smiling as they slept.

Draco awoke the next morning as Kingsley began to stir groggily.

'Ugh... Coffee...' Kingsley muttered, pulling himself to a seated position.

'I'll get some...' Draco responded, sounding very much worse for wear himself.

Kingsley placed his hand on him to stop him.

'Nah, baby... That's why we have house elves, for this type of emergency.'

Draco gratefully flopped back down as Kingsley called out the command to bring two coffees. Draco snuggled his way under Kingsley's arm and rested his head against his chest. The coffee appeared beside the bed on the night stands. The house elves in this building were trained to be extremely discreet.

Kingsley took a long sip of coffee and then relaxed. He glanced at Draco.

'You need a hangover potion this morning?' He asked.

Draco thought about it.

'I don't feel too bad actually.' Draco reflected.

'That's because you're so young.' Kingsley smiled. 'When you reach my age you'll need them after three glasses of wine.'

Draco giggled and took a sip of coffee.

'How old are you?' He asked.

'25.' Kingsley replied with a completely straight face.

Draco laughed.

'Yeah, right!' He exclaimed playfully.

Kingsley was about to pretend to look offended when suddenly a house elf appeared in the room, taking them both by surprise.

'Minister Shacklebolt.' The elf began, in a surprisingly sensible voice for a house elf, Draco thought they all sounded high pitched and silly until now. 'Minister, a correspondence owl from the ministry has arrived with these for your immediate attention.' The elf said, offering up a pile of newspapers.

'Oh. Thank you.' Said Kingsley formally, taking the bundle from the little elf who promptly disappeared as soon as he could.

Kingsley sat up a little further to pay attention to the papers.

'Is that normal?' Draco asked, peering over. 'Getting the papers like that?'

'No.' Said Kingsley. 'It means something's been reported that I need to know about.'

Draco's stomach tightened into a knot. He hopes to the Gods it wasn't what he feared it was.

Kingsley unfastened the string around the bundle of papers and unfolded them. Draco's heart almost stopped. There on the front of the Daily Prophet was a photo of him and Kingsley, talking, laughing and walking arm in arm down one of the pretty streets in muggle London.

The headline stared him in the face...

 ** _"From jail bird, to love bird?"_**

'Ah.' Said Kingsley flatly, feeling rather like he should apologise to Draco. Evidently even muggle London hadn't been far enough to keep the press at a safe distance.

'What does it say?' Draco asked nervously.

Kingsley read aloud:

 ** _'The wizarding world was rocked this weekend by the revelation that Minister Shacklebolt appears to be in a relationship with the 17 year old heir to the Malfoy estate._**

 ** _Usually a very private man, Minister Shacklebolt spent Saturday publically escorting his young friend around many of the scenic attractions of muggle London. Throughout the day, regular displayed of affection confirmed beyond doubt that this is more than a platonic friendship.'_**

Draco glanced again at the article. There were several pictures of them, holding hands, kissing... They must have been followed all day! There was even a picture of them going into the cafe for breakfast! At least this confirmed that Potter hadn't tipped the papers off. They were being followed before they even saw Potter.

Kingsley continued...

 ** _'Minister Shacklebolt, 44 years old...'_**

He paused and shrugged sheepishly. Of course he would have told Draco his real age anyway. It was a little bitter and ironic that this was how the age question was answered.

 ** _'Minister Shacklebolt, 44 years old has always kept his private life behind closed doors until Saturday when he suddenly decided to go public with a rather unexpected love interest. The relationship could hardly fail to draw criticism of the ministers judgement. In addition to the 27 year age gap are the obvious concerns around Mr Malfoy's background and past._**

 ** _Over the years the Malfoy family name has gained in infamy, becoming synonymous with the death eater movement during the war. Mr Malfoy's parents, now deceased, were both convicted death eaters. Malfoy Manor, which has since been destroyed, was a regular meeting place for death eaters, prior to the Dark Lord's return._**

 ** _Whilst Draco Malfoy was found to be innocent of all charges of death eater involvement, it is known he was held prisoner at the pleasure of the Dark Lord, and questions have been asked regarding the nature of his imprisonment. On top of these factors, this relationship revelation comes ahead of Minister Shacklebolt signing a large sum of ministry money over to Mr Malfoy in compensation for the destruction of his home._**

 ** _Critics may be cynical as to Mr Malfoy's sincerity in the romance, whilst others may have concerns about a minister for magic who behaves frivolously in his relationships, even in a time of peace.'_**

Draco had gone as white as a sheet and he looked like his lip was about to tremble. Kingsley pulled him close and kissed his hair. He glanced at the name on the article.

'Rita Skeeter!' He exclaimed. 'Well, she's a hack, isn't she! But Barnabus Cuffe, the editor! The son of a bitch! He works for me! Well, he did until now. I'm gonna sack his sorry ass first thing Monday morning!'

'You can't fire them for telling the truth!' Draco stammered. 'All that stuff they said about me, it's true, isn't it!'

Kingsley shook his head.

'This isn't journalism, Draco. This is trivial gossip and the Daily Prophet should be better than that. All the important thing that happened in the wizarding world this weekend and they decide to fill half the paper with a story about how they saw two people kissing! When I took the post as minister one of the things I wanted to do was ensure the prophet became a credible news source, and so far, old Barnabus isn't living up to my expectations.'

'What do the others say?' Draco asked nervously.

'Well the Quibbler look pretty positive...' Kingsley began. 'It's not their front page, but they've simply said:

 ** _Minister Shacklebolt could be seen on Saturday enjoying a day out in muggle London with his new love interest, Draco Malfoy. It is the belief of this paper that Mr Malfoy was an undercover spy for the ministry during the war. The editor speculates that, in fact, their relationship may date from this time. Only now, in a time of peace, is it able to be revealed to the world. The editor wishes them all the very best.'_**

Draco shook his head in disbelief.

'Well that's all very nice of them... Apart from implying I was having a relationship with you before you were of age!' Kingsley said dryly. 'Wizard Times have been fairly positive too and very much feel you deserve a break and some happiness. That's the tone of their piece.'

Kingsley handed Draco the paper and he studied it. It was a much better article.

'Look! Teen Witch said we're _'adorable'_.' Kingsley grinned.

Draco managed a half smile.

Suddenly Kingsley's smile faded, his eyes clouded and he frowned.

'What?' Draco asked at once, the sick feeling he had been trying to hold off returning all at once.

Kingsley held up a copy of Witch Weekly.

 ** _'Scandalous Secrets of the Minister for Magic'_** The headline ran.

 ** _'Minister for Magic, Kinglsey Shacklebolt is arguably the most popular minister the wizarding world has ever seen, but secrets leaked today reveal a darker side to the personal dealings of the ex auror turned minister._**

 ** _Today, Minister Shacklebolt (45) was seen publically with the 17 year old heir to the Malfoy estate, Draco Malfoy. The two of them spent the day in London, seeming to be any normal courting couple, which leads to questions about how did such an unlikely pair come about?_**

 ** _An anonymous source informed this paper of a questionable arrangement made by the minister for magic with Draco Malfoy, dating back to the time of his arrest and trial. Draco Malfoy was found, a captive of the Dark Lord, where he had been detained since the age of 15. Mr Malfoy was suffering from ill health, mental trauma and potion addiction due to forced use of illegal substances during his imprisonment. Despite this, he was subjected to a full criminal trial at the ministry before eventually being cleared and transferred to St Mungos hospital for much needed treatment._**

 ** _This paper can reveal that Minister Shacklebolt did, on a number of occasions, make unaccompanied visits Draco Malfoy's prison cell, outside of the normal working hours of the ministry. These visits continued once Mr Malfoy was taken into hospital care._**

 ** _As Mr Malfoy's home had been wrongfully destroyed, empty promises were made to him that he would be given money in compensation. Minister Shacklebolt proposed these plans himself, however, to date no money has been paid._**

 ** _Failure to promptly pay Mr Malfoy the money that was owed to him, resulted in him leaving hospital with no home, no financial resources and facing homelessness. However, in a shocking twist, this paper can reveal that Mr Malfoy is currently housed in the ministers own private apartment where the minister continues to visit him._**

 ** _Whilst Draco Malfoy's less than desirable family background has been in discussion by many news papers, this paper is the first to ask the questions: On what terms was the promise of money made to Draco Malfoy? Will the money ever be received? And how appropriate were the interactions between Minister Shacklebolt and this vulnerable teenage boy?'_**

'Oh Gods!' Draco whispered, horrified. This was worse, **far** worse than the papers trashing him, his family, his background. All along, Draco's biggest worry was about how their relationship would affect Kingsley's reputation, and here it was! The one paper that seemed to really stand up for him, seemed determined to smear Kingsley as a corrupt pervert and a liar.

Kingsley was shocked too. There were details in this report, albeit not entirely correct, which few people knew. For example, how would a newspaper know that he had visited Draco in his cell? Someone knew Draco was at the apartment too, which explained how they had been followed from the start of the day on Saturday. Kingsley looked at the editors name. Antigone DeLacy. Aarion's sister. He crumpled the paper in his hands.

Draco looked horrified and like he was about to cry. Kingsley was worried.

'Baby...' He said calmly. 'Please don't get upset. For what it's worth, you were right. You warned me this would happen, but I stand by what I said: Now, or in 6 months time, these headlines would be much the same.'

Draco didn't look 100% convinced. Kingsley continued.

'Look at it objectively. The Prophet was gossiping but overall, fairly ambivalent, they just wanted to spin a story. The Quibbler and Teen Witch were happy for us. It's only really this one...'

'This one is terrible...' Draco whispered. 'I wish they would stick to saying how terrible I am and leave you alone.'

Kingsley smiled and hugged him. Draco buried his face against Kingsley's bare chest. In spite of everything he felt comforted.

'It's not so bad!' Kingsley said. 'Except they added a year to my age! But again, there are no real facts and their whole argument that something untoward is going on hinges on the fact you haven't had any money yet. They'll be immediately discredited tomorrow morning and their whole article will look ridiculous.'

Draco nodded. This was a comforting thought, at least, but still he looked anxious.

'Draco, I'm a public figure. Newspapers talk about me. Usually they like me, but one of the things they like best is having a good old gossip. Even when I was head auror it was the same. One week I was the best dressed wizard, the next week, a fashion disaster. Once I was seen with my mother on Diagon Alley, the Prophet reported I was dating an older woman. One time I was said to be the leading expert on voodoo magic, another time I had solved a really difficult case and they decided I must be a seer. Now, apparently, I'm making seedy deals with teenage boys... I know it's not true. And tomorrow the world will know it's not true. I just don't want you to be too upset and I don't want it to ruin our weekend. This is the first weekend we've spent together, you know.'

He hugged Draco tightly and kissed him on the cheek. Draco smiled, despite his worries and hugged Kingsley back.

'I know it is.' He whispered. 'And it's been lovely.' He paused. 'We don't have to go out anywhere today though, do we?' He asked nervously.

'No. Not if you don't want to.' Kingsley said kindly. 'We can stay in and chill today. I can help you with that magic practice you've told me about, if you like.'

Draco nodded enthusiastically. Spells were more fun with a second person there.

'Are you using one of the spare wands from the draw in the sitting room?' Kingsley asked, hoping this topic would distract Draco from the horrible story in the papers, which he would take action to put right tomorrow!

'Yes.' Draco answered him.

'Which one works best for you?' Kingsley asked curiously.

'Ash wood, unicorn hair core.' Draco answered.

Kingsley looked surprised, then he smiled.

'You know, Draco, most of those wands are just spare ones, they've never had an owner. Except that one. That one was mine.'

'It was yours?' Draco echoed. 'You have a different one now, why?'

'The one I have now is my original one. Truth is, I lost it on a mission about 6 years ago so I went to Olivanders and bought that one. Anyway, after about 4 weeks my original wand was found in the clearing of the battle site where I lost it, buried beneath rubble, but undamaged. I went back to using it and kept the other one here. But if it works for you, you are welcome to keep using it as long as you want. It's a funny little wand. It always answered me, but it was a bit light and flighty for me, or I was a bit heavy handed for it, maybe. It probably suits you well.'

'I found it a little tricky at first.' Draco admitted. 'But I think that was more to do with me being out of practice at using one at all. I quite like it now.' He smiled.

Somehow the knowledge that he had bonded with Kingsley's old wand made Draco feel a million times better, even after the newspapers. It felt like he and Kingsley were bonding on a deeper level. He could feel that they were of course, but the wand seemed to confirm it.

Practicing magic together was fun. Draco had competently mastered basic spells by himself and Kingsley helped him practice more complex ones. Duelling practice, predictably ended in Kingsley disarming Draco, which then led to kisses and more. Once Kingsley even let Draco disarm him, purely so that Draco would have the chance to jump on top of him while he was defenceless. Draco did not disappoint.

There were intimate moments too when they talked about the patronus charm. Kingsley conjured his to show it to Draco. Draco marvelled at the beautiful silver lynx as the patronus appeared in its full corporal form. Kingsley stood behind him, holding and guiding him as he tried to produce one of his own. He managed only a few slivery wisps at first. Kingsley gently coached him on focusing his thoughts on a happy memory, but understood this might be hard for Draco.

Draco tried memories from his childhood, but they weren't really strong enough. He immediately thought of how happy he had been with Kingsley, when they made love, when they woke up together. These memories produced the best non-corporal patronus's he had managed so far, but they were all tinged with a little bit of angst, and a full patronus did not appear.

'You did really well there, baby!' Kingsley said proudly. 'We'll keep practicing it, and I'll work on giving you as many happy memories as possible, just to help you out!'

Kingsley left later that afternoon, as they both decided an early night and a proper night's sleep would be a good idea before Kingsley had work the next day. Kingsley would happily have stayed, but it would undoubtedly be a little overwhelming for Draco if he did. They were supposed to be dating, not living together already. _'There'll be plenty of time for that in the future...'_ He thought happily as he kissed Draco good bye and headed home.

Draco was genuinely really tired once Kingsley left, so much so that he skipped dinner, had a bath and went to bed where he slept deeply, untroubled by his concerns about newspapers and Kingsley's reputation. It was not until the morning that these thoughts resurfaced and he suddenly felt very alone and very frightened, wishing at once that Kingsley had stayed with him after all. He was nervous about going out today. He was nervous about getting his money, about seeing Kingsley at the bank. Kingsley had sent him a goodnight letter by owl last night and had told him that in order to counteract the story in Witch Weekly, he would make sure the prophet covered the story of the transfer of funds properly. There was a very real chance that a reporter would be there Gringotts. This would be his and Kingsley's first public appearance together. He spent the morning making sure he looked well presented and grown up and all together less like a vulnerable child than last time the papers had seen him.

Kingsley had business to attend to first thing on Monday morning. He asked Cornelius Fudge to be present in his office with him and he summoned Barnabus Cuffe to see him right away.

Barnabus Cuffe was the very worst type of Slytherin. All of the ambition and desire to succeed, none of the integrity and strength of conviction and less intelligence than most. He was something of a 'yes' man, which accounted for the majority of his career progression so far. His overall demeanour was something like a more confident and polished version of Wormtail, with perhaps a touch of Mungdungus Fletcher in that he would do just about anything to make quick money. He sauntered into the office with a smile on his face which Kingsley longed to wipe off.

'Minister.' He simpered, secretly glad that Cornelius Fudge was present also. Minister Shacklebolt wouldn't hurt him, not with a witness. 'What can I do for you?'

Kingsley glared at him from behind his desk.

'You can sit your worthless ass down, you son of a bitch, and be thankful I'm not gonna tear you a new one.' Kingsley said in as formal a voice as if he were addressing the Wizengamot.

Cuffe's smile disappeared. He glanced at Fudge, hoping to see shock or disapproval, but his stony face betrayed neither. Cuffe knew he was in out of his depth.

'That was some nasty shit you published yesterday, wasn't it?' Kingsley continued coldly.

'It was hardly as bad as Witch Weekly...' Cuffe began awkwardly. 'They were totally out of order with...'

'Silence.' Fudge interjected. 'Minister Shacklebolt doesn't want to listen to your excuses and subterfuge.'

Kingsley nodded curtly.

'Never mind what anyone else published, I'm here to talk about what you published... As it's the Daily Prophet who receive Ministry funding, isn't it?'

Cuffe shuffled uncomfortably.

'You will remember...' Kingsley continued, 'That when I took the title of minister for magic I wanted to ensure the Daily Prophet became a credible newspaper, reporting real stories, not idle gossip and scaremongering, which is how I would describe what I read yesterday.'

'It was rather unorthodox, Minister, if you'll pardon me saying so... You and the Malfoy boy, I mean.' Cuffe interjected. 'You could hardly expect us not to cover the story.'

'Nor do I expect your unquestioning loyalty. I want the prophet to have integrity, Cuffe, and if I, or any of the ministry commit any crime I would expect you to cover it impartially. However, what you printed yesterday was nothing more than mudslinging. I'll not deny I am in a relationship with Draco Malfoy and given that he was found to be very much a victim of the most cruel circumstances, and was declared innocent of any change against him... Well, I would hope the Prophet would have the common sense to deduce that my involvement with him was **not** based on poor judgement.'

'It wasn't meant that way, Minister. We simply meant that...'

'I know what you meant!' Kingsley snapped. 'At best, you meant _'let's sensationalise this story and imply that the minister has been blinded by desire and is not making good judgements'_. All that would do would be dint public confidence in the ministry, and it would sell you lots of papers. Is that what the people need now, after everything they have just lived through? More fear? I'll tell you what else would have sold a lot of papers, Cuffe. A positive story about love. Yes, that's right. A good news story about people being happy together after adversity. It's probably what the public need more at the moment. You would still have had your story. I don't expect the Prophet to be in my pocket, Cuffe, you know that. But you might want to think a little harder before you stir trouble where it doesn't need to be, and remember who pays your wages.'

'It was Rita's article, minister, I'll see that she is spoken to about this.' Cuffe offered in a grovelling tone.

'And you are Rita's manager.' Kingsley snapped. 'You're the editor, the responsibility lies with you. If you didn't like the tone of the piece you should have told her to change it. That's why you're the one sitting in my office. That's why you're the one whose future I am considering.'

'Minister, Please!' Cuffe spoke up. 'Let me put it right! We'll run a better article, something good news, to boost public morale.'

'Damn right you'll put it right, you worm.' Kingsley told him. 'You're gonna do something for me.'

'Certainly minister, anything.'

'Don't grovel!' Kingsley snapped.

Cuffe straightened up in his chair.

'Today I sign over the compensation to Draco, the money that was awarded to him for the loss of his home. You will send a reporter... a **good** reporter, to Gringots to cover this. The tone of the story will be about how the ministry council, the whole council not just me, was keen to make provisions for the poor boy who had suffered so much and lost everything. I will write a statement to run alongside the article which confirms my relationship with him. You will conclude by saying how happy the Prophet is, and that you wish us all the best.'

Kingsley glared at Cuffe to gage his response. Cuffe simply nodded furiously.

'Good. I'm glad we agree.' Kingsley said calmly. 'Now get out of here. You need to get a reporter over to Gringotts by 12.30.'

'Yes minister, thank you minister.' Cuffe said as he hurried out of the room.

Draco made his way to Gringotts on foot, wishing more than ever that he could apparate. This was the longest walk he had taken by himself and through far more public areas that he would readily have gone to were it not absolutely necessary. However, today it was worth it. He was going to get his money. It was strange really, because with everything that had been going on between him and Kingsley, Draco hadn't thought too much about the money at all. However, it would be nice to feel that he had his own finances and his own security again. It would make him feel better about being with Kingsley too. Once he was financially secure again they would be on a far more level playing field, they would feel more like equals. Draco longed to feel independent and confident again. He could buy Kingsley gifts! Kingsley wouldn't have to pay for things every time they went out! Everything about the whole situation would be better. Nervous though he was, Draco managed a real smile.

Draco was frightened when he arrived at the bank and saw that a reporter was already there. He was relieved to see Kingsley there waiting for him though and he hurried straight over to him. It was odd to see him like this, in a public place. Draco felt his cheeks flush a little as Kingsley took his hands warmly and kissed him on the cheek affectionately. A camera bulb flashed.

The process itself was rather simple and was over quite quickly. Kingsley signed a deed declaring the money and the town deeds were to pass to Draco. Draco signed to confirm that he accepted it in payment for the value of Malfoy Manor and that he considered the matter resolved with this transaction. What took a little longer was actually getting hold of some physical money from the goblins, and while they were waiting, having to answer questions from the reporter.

'How do you feel about receiving this settlement?' The friendly, grey haired man asked Draco.

'Extremely grateful.' Draco recited the answer he had been planning. 'The ministry have been very kind to me throughout my ordeal.'

'How do you intend to use the money?' The man asked.

'I haven't made any decisions yet.' Draco answered. 'After the last year, the concept of making decisions like this feels rather new to me. I will need somewhere to live, of course, but that may be somewhere in the new town as I plan to be involved in the development and upkeep of the place and base any of my business and charitable ventures there.'

'Thank you, Mr Malfoy. Great answers, that's all I need.' The man smiled pleasantly. 'I'll have a little more time with you, Minister if that's convenient as I believe you wanted to make a statement?'

'Yes, thank you.' Kingsley said, in a friendly and professional tone. 'I will just be one moment.'

The man nodded politely as Kingsley took hold of Draco's arm and walked him to the door. Together they stepped outside into the sunshine.

'You did good, baby.' Kingsley smiled at him.

Draco, who was a little overwhelmed by the whole thing, smiled back.

'I just hope it's all ok.' He replied. 'I hope people are alright about it, and that it doesn't make you less popular.'

'Don't worry about it, Draco. I'm such a likable guy, after all!' Kingsley teased.

Draco smiled, but he was still concerned.

'I hope you're right.' He whispered.

Kingsley hugged him.

'Don't worry!' He assured him again. 'Just relax about it and I'll come see you later.'

With that, they parted and Kingsley went back into the bank to speak to the reporter and Draco set off walking back to the apartment.

He felt rather odd. Everything was different for him now, he had the equivalent of 4 million pounds in the bank and the ownership deeds for a third of a town. He was a very rich young man again. It was strange. Strange because it had all been so quick once it finally happened. Yes, it had been a long time coming, but once the day arrived it was all so quick. He was deeply grateful, of course he was. This was life changing, after all, and there had been a time that Draco had imagined he might never have his freedom again, yet alone any wealth or the means with which to decide his future. However, he didn't feel as happy as he felt he should. He didn't want to be ungrateful, but he just couldn't feel as elated as he wanted to feel. He was too worried about how people would perceive his relationship with Kingsley. His mind was full of troubles and concerns when suddenly he heard a shout.

'Oi! Malfoy!'

Draco spun round in fear. The voice had sounded far from friendly.

Three young men were standing across the street and now one of them, a red haired man was striding towards him aggressively. It was Ron Weasley.

'Leave me alone, Weasley.' Draco replied instinctively. He had hoped that his voice would come out as cocky and confident as it had done when he spoke to Weasley at school. It didn't. He just sounded scared.

It didn't help that Ron seemed to get bigger and bigger as he approached. He was very much taller than Draco now and about twice as wide. He loomed over him in a brutish fashion.

'Are you pleased with yourself, Malfoy?' Ron goaded. 'I bet you think you've really fallen on your feet, don't you?'

Draco turned to walk away but Ron grabbed hold of his arm and gripped him so tightly it hurt.

'Take your hands of me!' Draco hissed.

'Kingsley's a good bloke, and he's a friend of mine.' Ron barked at Draco. 'I don't like watching someone like you making a fool of him. I don't know how you've done it, but for some reason he actually seems to like you.'

'It's none of your business.' Draco managed.

'You've managed this whole war thing pretty well, haven't you? Out of the Dark Lord's bed and straight in with the minister for magic! You don't waste time do you, you fucking slut? Did you manage to clean yourself up in-between or were you sucking Kingsley's cock when you still had Voldemort's come on your face?'

Draco looked shocked and horrified and the simply tried to break free from Ron's grip.

'Don't look so shocked! You're a vile little waste of space and everyone thinks so. It's a pity the Dark Lord didn't kill you, save you causing trouble for everyone. Your time is up, Malfoy! Your whole family, your name... You're hated by the entire wizard community! Your parents were death eaters and you should be hiding away in shame. No one wants you around and you certainly don't deserve someone like the minister for magic!'

Draco finally pulled his arm free.

'Just leave me alone!' He just managed to say as he turned and his eyes were filling with tears.

'Get out of here, you fucking scumbag!' Ron shouted after him and just as he did so, Harry rounded the corner, hearing the last words Ron said and catching sight of a thin blond figure running away.

'Hey!' Harry exclaimed. 'Was that Malfoy?' He looked at Ron confrontationally.

'Yeah.' Said Ron callously.

'What did you say to him?' Harry asked sounding cross.

'I just told him what I thought of him.' Ron said with great satisfaction. 'I've been waiting to do that since first year of Hogwarts.'

'Ron!' Harry snapped. 'What did you say?'

'What does it matter?' Ron asked him earnestly. 'I just said he's a loser and people hate him. And everyone thinks he was sleeping with Voldemort and that he's a slut.'

Harry's eyes widened in horror.

'But people don't think that!' Harry gasped. 'Even you don't actually think that's true, do you?'

'Nah, probably not.' Ron admitted. 'But whatever.'

Harry looked disgusted.

'Ron! I told you, He's really changed. Give him a break! Give him a chance at least! He's not like he was at school. None of us are at school anymore! Merlin's balls, Ron! You're training to be an auror! You can't shout abuse at people in the street! And anyway, Malfoy doesn't deserve it!'

Harry sighed crossly and continued.

'I spoke to Mad-Eye Moody about him this morning actually. He found him, remember. He said the state he was in was dreadful, really quite disturbing. The way I see it, if Kingsley and Mad-Eye Moody and Professor Lupin and Tonks are all convinced, well, I can put silly schoolyard differences aside, cant you? Hell, Ron! After everything we've been through, you still felt the need to have a go at an old school rival in the street? What's that about, mate?

Harry had surprised himself at his impassioned diatribe, but he really believed it to be true. He had spoken to Draco and seen evidence that he was a different person these days, plus he trusted the opinions of Kingsley and the others. In addition to this, he was fed up with old school rivalries and was well and truly ready to let them go.

Ron looked suitably ashamed.

'Yeah, ok. You're right.' He conceded. 'It's no big deal, I won't do it again. I guess I just put up with so much shit from him for so long I just wanted something of my own back. But you're right, it's childish. Got it out of my system now anyway. It's no big deal.'

But it was a big deal. To Draco it was the biggest deal in the world. Someone had accosted him in the street and shouted all of his worst fears right at him. Everyone hated him. Everyone thought he was a slut. Everyone thought he was using Kingsley and trying to shame him. It would have been better if he was dead. He and his whole family were hated by everyone. He didn't deserve any happiness. He certainly didn't deserve Kingsley. Draco could hardly breath and tears poured down his cheeks as he ran and ran.

Kingsley was very frustrated that afternoon, as some important reports came through concerning the death eater trials and convictions. They demanded his attention and kept him in the office until gone 6.30 when all he really wanted to do was go to Draco.

He was feeling very pleased with himself. The Prophet article would blow Witch Weekly's comments out of the water and he had given the paper such a genuine and touching statement about how Draco and he had grown close as they had worked on the finer details of the settlement. How they never planned to fall for one another but eventually could fight it no longer. They were beginning to spend time together informally and were very happy to be able to be together. When the papers came out on Tuesday morning, everything would be alright. Draco was ever so silly for getting so worked up about it, wasn't he? It was all going to be just fine.

Kingsley hurried out of the elevator when it reached the top floor. He knocked on the door of the apartment but as Draco knew he was coming he knocked and simply went straight in.

'Hey baby! I'm home at last!' He called out.

He waited for a second and froze. No reply came.

'Draco?' Kingsley called, a note of fear in his voice. 'Draco baby, where are you?'

Still no reply came, simply his own voice echoing around the apartment.

Frantically he rushed into the kitchen, then the bedroom, then the bathroom. Up to the roof terrace and then back down again, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

The apartment was deserted.

Draco was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

The horrifying realisation spread through Kingsley just like poison and seemed to have similar physical effects. He felt sick. His head was spinning as he stumbled through to the sitting room and collapsed onto the sofa, his head in his hands.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not a man who was prone to crying yet tears rolled freely down his cheeks and his broad shoulders shook as he sobbed in heartbroken grief.

Draco was gone.

Draco had left him. How could this be happening?

Perhaps he had simply gone out for a walk and would return any minute...

No.

The apartment was deserted. All of Draco's possessions were gone. Admittedly there were very few of them, but it was still obvious that all traces of him had disappeared from the space. The apartment looked like a show home again. It looked like it had done when Kingsley had first bought Draco here. It was as if Draco had never been here at all.

Kingsley's sobs became deeper and louder until he was almost howling with pain. How could Draco do this to him? Was it the money he wanted all along? Was that why he was nervous about being seen in public, because he never intended to stick around? Kingsley clutched his chest feeling like he had been stabbed in the heart. Surely this whole affair had meant more to Draco than that?

It must have meant something, it must! But yet Draco was gone!

Kingsley found himself questioning his entire concept of reality. Everything that had happened between Draco and himself, he was so sure it had meant something to Draco. It sure as hell had meant a lot to him! He had held Draco when he cried, kissed him better, laughed and joked with him, made him smile. Together they had worked through the rather messy beginnings of their relationship, they had talked, started over and everything had been so right. How could Draco have done this?

On the verge of choking on his own tears, Kingsley raised his head a little to try to draw a proper breath. It was then that he saw it.

A letter sat in the centre of the glass coffee table. His name was on the envelope.

In a state of panic he grabbed it and tore it open. Heart hammering, he read the letter contained within:

 ** _Dear Kingsley,_**

 ** _I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. I can't do this. I can't let you ruin your career and everything you have worked for over a worthless waste of space like me. That is what people think of me and I don't think any amount of time will change their minds. You deserve better, you really do._**

 ** _I could never be worthy of you, Kingsley, but you're so kind you will try to insist that everything is ok. But it isn't. I'm hated and despised and you are liked and respected. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of the kindness you have shown me, I'm not worth your time._**

 ** _It's better if I just go and leave you to get on with your life. I will never forget you as long as I live. You have been the best thing in my life, which is precisely why I can't let me destroy you._**

 ** _I'm so very sorry._**

 ** _Draco._**

Kingsley gasped for breath, clutching the letter tightly, his brain fogged with confusion. So Draco hadn't simply run away once he got his money. There was some sense of relief in this realisation. Kingsley's pride had been deeply hurt by the idea that none of the emotions between Draco and him had been real and that he might have been duped into believing they were. However, now it seemed even more pointless and ridiculous that Draco was gone. Draco hadn't even wanted to go but thought he had to, for Kingsley's sake.

It was crazy. It was just ludicrous. If he could only see Draco, even just for a moment, he could convince him to stay. If he could only talk to him, all this nonsense could be resolved! Why hadn't Draco waited until he got home? They could have talked about it if something was worrying him. If Draco had only given it time, everything would have worked out alright!

As the night wore on Kingsley didn't feel any better. The physical pain seemed to fluctuate but never disappeared altogether. He tried to have a cup of tea, but couldn't manage it. Food was out of the question. He considered returning to his own house. Perhaps he would sleep easier there? But what if, by some miracle, Draco changed his mind and decided to come home? Kingsley stayed in the apartment, just in case.

Draco might come back.

He might...

Around 2am Kingsley finally drifted into a restless sleep, waking on the hour, having a delirious moment where he forgot what had happened and then feeling his eyes fill with tears as the horrible reality hit him again like a bullet in the heart. Each time he woke he imagined for a second that he heard the apartment door open, or a footstep in the hallway, every time thinking for one hopeful second that Draco might have returned.

He was awake at 5.30, which was earlier than he needed to get up, but there was no point in staying in bed. Sleep had been deeply unsatisfying to him. However, there seemed little point in getting up either as the thought of breakfast turned his stomach. He had a shower and felt no better for it. There seemed to be little point in looking after himself. In fact there seemed to be very little point in breathing in and out. Kingsley had always worked so hard, always tried to do the right thing, be brave and selfless, which didn't always some naturally to a Slytherin! He had thought that after years of serving the wizarding world it was finally time for him to have something of his own. Someone of his own, someone to come home to, to build a life with. Someone to love. Draco was supposed to be that someone, even if Draco didn't know it yet! Now Draco was gone and there was no pain like it. Kingsley thought back to his old war wound that scarred his abdomen. He remembered the physical agony when it was inflicted and concluded he would take that again, five times over, if only he could have his Draco back again!

Kingsley arrived at work early having been taunted all the way there by the newsstands setting up the displays of today's Daily Prophet with Draco and Kingsley pictured on the front page. Along with a glowing story of how the ministry had honoured it's commitment to pay Draco for his lost home, and a supplementary story where Kingsley confirmed that he and Draco were indeed embarking on an intimate relationship. It was so painful to see it outside of every shop and to see the early risers purchasing their copies and reading it, smiling. Many of them greeted Kingsley as he made his way to the ministry. Several people told him how happy they were for him and wished him all the best. It took inner strength that Kingsley didn't even know he had to put on a brave face and smile politely. It felt like each well-wisher was stabbing him in the chest with every well meaning word.

If only Draco was here to hear them! People didn't hate him at all! Some people asked after him and Kingsley heard himself lie...

'Draco's taking a few days to go traveling. He's been through such a lot, he wanted to go and visit some of the places he knew growing up. I offered to go with him, of course, but he felt it was something he had to do alone. I respect that. I think he needs a few days and some space.'

Kingsley told them this with a politicians smile, using a lie to hide a scandal. He wondered if perhaps he had told them this lie in a kind of delusional optimism. Perhaps if he told people this and he believed it enough then it might somehow become the truth...?

People told him how kind and understanding he was, and how lucky Draco was to have him. To which he replied it was he who was lucky to have Draco, every word like a knife twisting deeper and deeper. He felt a flutter of fear, knowing each lie he told put him in more and more trouble. He couldn't lie about this indefinitely!

By the time he arrived at work he felt utterly destroyed, even more so than he had felt the previous evening, and he shut himself away in his office and tried his best to focus on some work.

He made slow progress.

At around 10am, there was a knock at the door and Cornelius Fudge appeared in the room.

Cornelius was not a man known for his sensitivity to emotions, or for his interpersonal skills but one look at his colleague told him something was very wrong. He had worked with Kingsley for many years and had very rarely seen anything shake him. That was why, when Cornelius stepped down as minister and made the decision to remain in the upper orders of the ministry, he was happy to have been replaced by such a strong and resilient man as Kingsley Shacklebolt.

'Minister, I...' Fudge began and then stopped immediately.

To his horror he saw that Kingsley had tears in his eyes! Fudge felt himself begin to panic. Fudge was from a generation unaccustomed to seeing wizards cry. A tearful young witch he could maybe have coped with, but a fully grown man! The tears were almost obscene and Fudge didn't know where to look!

This was not to say he was an uncaring person, he did care, he simply didn't know how to express it. What he did know was that formal conversation would have to wait. Hurriedly he decided what role to take.

He secured the door and walked slowly over to Kingsley.

'Kingsley, son...' he began in a caring, fatherly tone. 'What's happened?' He asked pulling up a chair beside him.

Kingsley tried to compose himself. He had never been someone who liked to show emotions in front of colleagues.

'It's Draco.' He managed at last. 'He's gone.'

Fudge looked shocked. He had revised his opinion of Draco Malfoy during the trial and could hardly believe that after everything, Draco would take the money and simply disappear.

'When did this happen?' He asked gently, remembering all too well the pain he had felt when his wife of 20 years ran off with another man.

'Last night.' Kingsley replied.

'Did he give any explanation as to why?' Fudge asked, wanting to understand the whole story.

'That's the craziest part.' Kingsley said crossly and tearfully. 'He left because he thinks everyone hates him. Thinks he'll ruin my reputation, and it's nonsense! I've heard nothing but positives about the article in the Prophet...'

'Hummmm... yes.' Fudge agreed. He had heard the same.

'He's left me and I have no idea where he's gone!' Kingsley lamented. 'If only I could talk to him again!'

Fudge flinched and rested a supportive hand on Kingsley's shoulder.

'I know.' He said kindly. 'I know how much this hurts.'

Kingsley looked at him earnestly and smiled as best he could. He remembered Fudge's painful divorce too. He appreciated Fudge's support.

'Why don't you go home for the day?' Fudge suggested. 'I can take care of anything here and I can always contact you in an emergency. It seems like you could do with some space at the moment?'

Kingsley nodded appreciatively.

'I'll see how I go.' He replied. 'I'll try to stay until lunchtime and see how I feel from there.' He paused. 'Thank you, Cornelius. I appreciate your kindness.'

'Any time, son.' Fudge replied. 'We've been through some tough times, you and I. You've been there for me on more than one occasion. I've not forgotten. If you need some time off I'm more than prepared to cover in your absence.'

'Thank you.' Kingsley said again as Fudge stood up to leave.

Fudge left Kingsley alone to his thoughts feeling that he had done his best, advising and supporting as he had done with his children when they had relationships break down. He was never sure if he did or said the right thing, but was aware enough to know it was better to say something that to say nothing.

Outside in the corridor he wore a very worried expression as he considered not only the sadness his friend was experiencing, but the scandal that would occur when the wizarding world found out that their minister for magic had been duped by a 17 year old boy. He pictured the further pain and distress this would cause Kingsley and he sighed in anguish.

Not looking where he was going, it was just at that moment that he walked into someone coming the other way…

It was Harry Potter.

'Merlin's beard!' Fudge exclaimed in horror. 'I'm so terribly sorry, Mr Potter, I really am. I wasn't looking where I was going. My apologies.'

'Oh, it's ok Mr Fudge, sir.' Harry replied immediately, still not accustomed to, or comfortable with the somewhat grovelling and revering way in which many people spoke to him these days.

'You're too kind, Mr Potter.' Fudge said humbly. 'I had my mind on other things. Should have been paying attention.'

'Is everything alright?' Harry asked, noticing the look of distress and concern on Fudges face.

'Well, no, it isn't as it happens, Mr Potter.' Fudge replied anxiously.

'Anything I can help with?' Harry asked.

Fudge thought for a moment. He knew he probably shouldn't tell anyone about the ministers predicament... However, this was Harry Potter. Fudge had always been somewhat suggestible and he was rapidly becoming one of many people who looked at Harry as something of a saviour, a miracle worker. Telling him a problem was almost like confessing it to a God. It not only unburdened a person of their troubles, but they also somehow felt that the great Harry Potter might be able to solve it for them.

'Would you step into my office for a moment, Mr Potter?' Fudge asked.

Harry nodded curiously and followed Fudge into his room.

Fudge offered Harry his own, comfortable leather chair and took a seat himself of the less impressive visitors seat.

'It's minister Shacklebolt.' He began in a serious tone. 'And Mr Malfoy.'

Harry interjected here.

'Hey! Look, I get why people might be a bit suspicious of Malfoy, but I saw them together at the weekend and, you know what? They seemed really happy. I admit, I wouldn't immediately have thought of them getting together, but they actually seemed like a pretty good couple.' Harry defended.

'It may surprise you to hear this, but I entirely agree with you.' Fudge replied. 'I was very wary of Mr Malfoy at first and I admit I didn't trust him. There was a time I was good friends with Lucius Malfoy, you see. He pulled the wool over my eyes and I assumed Draco would be capable of the same trickery. But I revised my opinion of him. I was in his trial as you know. I heard his story, and at first I thought him a liar, but I saw his face when he learned about his home, and about the death of his parents. That young man is no villain as far as I'm concerned.' Fudge concluded.

'Then what's the problem?' Asked Harry, confused.

'Draco has disappeared.' Fudge said solemnly.

'What?!' Harry gasped in disbelief.

'Kingsley went to visit him yesterday evening and found that he had gone.' Fudge explained. 'Apparently he left because he believes everyone hates him and he doesn't want to ruin Kingsley's reputation.'

Harry gasped.

'But that's not true, is it? People feel sorry for him, don't they? And people seem to think it's nice that he has found happiness, Kingsley too. Why one earth would he think that everyone… hates…'

The penny dropped and Harry's face clouded first with anger, then with concern.

Ron!

Draco had taken Ron's cruel words to heart and those words had prompted him to run away. What was more, Kingsley probably didn't even know that anyone had actually said anything to Draco. He was probably left guessing and finding no answer as to why someone he had been so happy with only days before had suddenly deserted him.

'I'll go and speak to minister Shacklebolt.' Harry said decidedly.

'Do you… Do you think you can help?' Fudge asked nervously and hopefully.

'I don't know.' Harry replied, standing up. 'But I'll do my best.'

Fudge couldn't logically explain why, but he felt enormously comforted by this as a Harry left the room. After all, if anyone could solve this problem it was Harry Potter. He had saved the entire world!

Outside in the corridor, harry felt less confident. Defeating dark wizards was one thing, matters of the heart were quite another. What's more, they were an area in which he was greatly inexperienced as romance had never been Harry's top priority or interest. He had watched as Hermione and Ron had become close and listened to Ron's frustrations about his desires. Harry occasionally felt drawn to the idea of the closeness of that type of relationship, but it didn't consume him like it seemed to those around him. He was so much more passionate about being an auror than he was about the concept of physical romantic relationships!

He understood how important romantic relationships were to other people though. He had seen how Malfoy, who had always been so cold and aloof, had been so much more open and warm when he saw him on Saturday. Harry could tell this was not simply because of the bad experiences Malfoy had had. Bad experiences rarely result in a person becoming warmer, but good experiences do. Clearly Kingsley's love was making Malfoy happier than he had ever been in his life, and in turn, his love was affecting Kingsley. Kingsley had always been a friendly and open person, but he had always been someone who kept at a distance. He had never been one to make his private life public knowledge but now he was happy to be seen out and about with Draco, which proved this relationship was something which meant a lot to him.

Harry hurried to Kingsley's office and knocked on the door. Eventually a reply came. Harry opened the door gingerly and stepped inside, a little nervous about this mission.

'Minister Shacklebolt…' He began timidly, noticing Kingsley's bloodshot, teary eyes. 'Minister Shacklebolt, may I have a word…?'

Kingsley didn't want to be rude, but if it wasn't urgent then he would much rather have this little chat some other time.

'Is it urgent, Harry?' He asked, trying not to sound too weary.

'Umm… It's about Draco.' Harry replied, shutting the door behind him.

Kingsley sat bolt upright and fully alert.

'What about Draco?' He asked at once.

Harry sat down in the chair recently vacated by Fudge.

'I know he's gone.' Harry said as calmly as he could although he was worried he was going to make Kingsley angry, or more upset, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it if that happened.

'How do you…' Kingsley began.

'Mr Fudge told me.' Harry confessed.

Kingsley sighed crossly.

'I didn't think I had to tell Cornelius to keep our conversation confidential!' Kingsley exclaimed.

'Oh, I don't think he was gossiping!' Harry replied quickly. 'It's just, well… People tell me things these days, things they're worried about. They seem to think I'll be able to solve it for them.' Harry said, a little dolefully.

Kingsley gave him an understanding look. Even through his own troubles, he could recognise the uncomfortable position Harry was being put in. It couldn't be easy being Harry Potter!

'Well no one is expecting you to be able to solve this.' Kingsley said both kindly and sadly. 'This is a mess of my own making. It's my own fault he's gone and the time will soon come when I have to face up to that.' His voice was angry and shaky.

'I saw you both on Saturday.' Harry said. 'You seemed so happy. I admit I didn't know Draco well at school, but let's just say, I never thought I'd see him so relaxed and happy as he was with you. Why do you think it's your fault he's gone?'

Unsure why he was confessing this to Harry Potter, Kingsley answered. Perhaps it was simply because the thoughts were so painful he couldn't keep them inside.

'Draco was so scared about what people would think about our relationship.' Kingsley replied. 'He tried to tell me how he felt, he told me he wanted to wait a while before going out in public, but I wouldn't listen. I was so keen to be with him! I kept trying to brush his feelings aside, telling him not to worry. I should have taken his concerns more seriously, then he might have stayed and talked it through... But me being me, I just knew what I wanted and went right ahead.' Kingsley sighed.

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable and wondered why he had ever thought he could help with this. He didn't speak so Kingsley continued.

'And the crazy thing is, people don't hate him at all! The public reception to the article this morning has been wonderful. People like Draco and they're glad we're happy. Which just makes the reality all the more painful. He left Gringotts, perfectly alright, and by the time I got home he had gone! I mean, what happened? What changed? Unless all he wanted was the money after all.'

Kingsley almost sobbed as he finished the last sentence. He was a broken man and it scared Harry to see him that way. However, he remembered now that he could help. He knew at least that something had happened.

'Errrm…. Someone said something to him when he left Gringotts.' Harry said nervously.

'What!?' Kingsley almost shouted before lowering his voice as he had noticed Harry jump. 'Who said something to him? What did they say?' He exclaimed, trying in vain to conceal his anger.

Harry felt rather compromised now. Ron had been a dick, for sure, and it was undoubtedly his comments that had prompted Draco to run away. However, Ron was still a friend and Harry wouldn't have wished an angry Kingsley Shacklebolt onto anyone!

'I don't know his name.' Harry lied. 'It was some guy from Hogwarts, someone Draco used to give a bit of a hard time… Draco wasn't always very, errr… nice to people at school…' Harry said almost apologetically.

Kingsley smiled a little and nodded.

'I can believe it.' He whispered. 'But what was said to him, Harry?' Kingsley said at normal volume again. 'I need to know what was said.'

'I didn't hear it all I'm afraid.' Harry answered. 'I just arrived as Draco was running away. I saw that the guy had hold of his arm and he shouted after him, something about him being a slut, or something.'

Kingsley looked horrified and furious.

'I pulled him up about it.' Harry hastened to add. 'Asked what he had said. He didn't tell me the details, just said he told him what he thought of him, but he did say he had used the words _'everyone hates you'_. I told him not to do it ever again and I don't think he will. He said he'd just wanted to have a go at Malfoy for years. I let him know it was out of order. But I'm pretty sure that's why Draco had gone, minister. Not because of anything you did or said.'

Kingsley sat in silence, contemplating the information. Revenge was the first thought that crossed his mind.

'And you're sure you can't remember who it was?' He asked suspiciously.

'He wasn't someone I knew at school.' Harry lied again. 'Maybe I could pick him out of a line up, but I don't think I could give a name. Anyway, that seems like rather a waste of effort, doesn't it? Look, the way I see it, Draco ran away to protect you. He ran away, presumably devastated, believing he had confirmation of his fears that everyone hates him. Surely the most important thing to do is to find him? I mean, I don't know just how upset he was…'

'You don't think he would have done anything stupid, do you?' Kingsley jumped up in horror. Draco might have done something stupid! He had no family, probably felt he had no friends and had just walked out on his relationship. Who knew what he might do?

'I don't know.' Harry replied. 'But I reckon he's feeling pretty alone in the world right now. We should find him.'

Kingsley nodded.

'We'll mount a search party.' He said decidedly.

Harry shook his head. Greif was affecting Kingsley's planning skills.

'I overheard people talking on my way in. You told everyone Draco has gone away for a few days with your blessing. If we send out a search party it will be far too conspicuous. This needs to be subtle.'

Kingsley nodded.

'You're right.' He agreed.

'I'll look for him.' Harry said, boldly. After all, if he could find 5 horcruxes and the Dark Lord, he was pretty sure he could find Draco Malfoy!

'Are you sure?' Kingsley asked.

'Yes.' Said harry. 'You stay here and it's business as usual as far as you're concerned. I'll find Draco.'

'Why would you do this, Harry?' Kingsley asked. 'You said yourself, Draco wasn't your friend…'

'But you are.' Harry said earnestly. 'And Draco seemed so different than ever before. They way he looked at you… it meant something. It's changed him, for the better. There's been a war. So many good people died and never had a chance at happiness, you and Draco shouldn't throw your chance away over some stupid comment from an idiot in the street. This is too important for that.'

Kingsley smiled properly for the first time since yesterday.

'Yes. Yes it is.' He replied.


	14. Chapter 14

Despite being a far more logical and level headed man than Cornelius Fudge, Kingsley Shacklebolt found himself falling into the trap of feeling better for having told Harry Potter his problem. It wasn't a bad thing. He needed for feel a little better as he had felt so unhappy it had been hard to function. Harry had been able to shed some light on the situation too. Kingsley now knew that someone **had** said something to Draco which had upset him and that was why he had left. There was some comfort in knowing that Draco had told the truth in his letter and he hadn't actually run away because he didn't want to see him anymore.

If only Kingsley knew which little bastard had been unkind to Draco! His devastation was at the stage where it was beginning to turn to anger, and finding the little shit who had upset his precious Draco and doing them some serious physical damage would have made Kingsley feel a hundred times better! And that was before he even got to Aarion, the two faced rat! So much for his promise not to cause any more trouble! Clearly he had talked to his sister, the editor of Witch Weekly. This was how the paper had known to follow Draco and Kingsley from the apartment. As Kingsley had no way to find out for definite who had been unkind to Draco, he would have to content himself with dealing with Aarion at the next opportunity.

Logically Kingsley knew vengeance punches wouldn't make the situation any better, but Kingsley tended to be a man of action and he disliked feeling powerless. Harry was going to find Draco and all he could do was wait. There was nothing he could do to help as he had to stay calm and keep up appearances to avoid gossip and scandal. It was very frustrating and his frustration needed to vent somewhere. Preferably by rearranging someone's face!

Harry sat cross legged on his bunk in the trainee auror dormitory. A large map of magical London was spread out over his lap and he clutched a note book and pen in one hand. Hedwig was perched beside him expectantly as if awaiting instructions. Harry sighed crossly. He'd been sat there for an hour and he still had no bloody idea where Malfoy could have gone.

'OK...' He spoke out loud, possibly to his owl. 'We don't think he will have gone to Knockturn Alley, do we?' Because he was found innocent of being a death eater and very publically denounced any affiliation to Voldemort. So I'd say we can rule out any of the more traditionally dark neighbourhoods, can't we?'

Hedwig squawked loudly.

'But we also don't think he's likely to have hung around the New Town area either. It's too high society and he'd be seen and photographed there. The same is probably true with the nicer parts of the Old Town, like Diagon Alley. All a bit too public if you want to hide.' Harry mused.

Hedwig tilted her head on one side.

'With the manor gone, and no family he could hide with, it's hard to know where he might go.' Harry pondered.

Remus and Tonks were still in France and were not returning until the weekend, so he couldn't have gone to them. The rest of his family were dead, except a few distant half cousins who were in Azkaban. Harry thought for a moment how wretched that must make Draco feel. All his family dead or in jail. No wonder he worried that everyone would dislike him.

'Where would he go, Hedwig?' Harry asked hopelessly. 'If he wants to hide, where would he...' Harry paused...

'Muggle London!' Harry exclaimed at last.

Hedwig drew herself up tall.

'Muggle London...' Harry said again.

Yes, it would make sense. Draco had told Harry on Saturday that he and Kingsley had gone to muggle London at his suggestion, because he thought it would be safer and they would not be seen. They **had** been seen, however, but they had been seen because they had been followed from the apartment. That had been obvious from the photos, and from the article in Witch Weekly which had reported on Draco's living arrangements. Harry, who had been paying full attention at auror training camp, had begun his research by reading every one of the newspaper reports he could find about Draco and Kingsley. It was helping him to find a starting point. He felt quite proud. He wanted to go and tell Hermione that he was actually doing some research and drawing some logical conclusions! However, this had to be secret, even from his best friends. The fewer people who knew that Draco had gone missing, the better.

Muggle London... But where? Harry wondered. Muggle London was huge! Trying to find Draco in that vast, sprawling city would be near impossible. It was an effective place to hide, for sure!

'Think!' harry prompted himself. 'Think... Where would Draco go...?'

Harry knew London reasonably well and he thought about the areas that might attract Draco. Knightsbridge... Hyde Park... He shook his head. Draco may be rich, but he probably wasn't Knightsbridge rich these days.

Harry thought some more. Draco probably didn't know muggle London very well at all. He had looked so scared and confused on Saturday. He wouldn't know where to go without some guidance. Harry grabbed Sunday's Daily Prophet and turned to the article. It identified the places that Kingsley and Draco had visited. They would be the first areas that Harry would try.

Covent Garden... Harry could imagine Draco there. South Bank seemed less likely somehow... Westminster. That was a possibility. That was where they had gone for breakfast. It was a nice, up market part of town, the sort of place Draco would probably feel safe. It was probably the first place they had been to, Harry deduced, as that was where they were for breakfast.

Covent Garden and Westminster. They were the first places to try.

Harry called for Dobby the house elf. Dobby was good at finding things out for him, and he was always happy to help. He had been useful during the war and despite being free, he was always keen to serve, as was the very nature of house elves. Harry sent Dobby to Covent Garden. He instructed Hedwig to search Westminster.

Feeling a little more satisfied with himself, Harry sighed and began to fold up his map.

'What you doing, mate?' Ron's voice startled Harry. He hadn't noticed him come in.

'Nothing.' Harry replied a little defensively. 'I can't tell you. It's secret.'

'What do you mean, secret?' Ron asked.

'Secret.' Harry repeated. 'As in, I can't tell anyone. It's a mission I've been given, that's all.'

Ron laughed.

'A mission? Harry mate, we're not even trained yet! No one is going to give us missions! Whatever it is, I think you can tell me! Bloody hell! I helped you defeat the Dark Lord, remember?' Ron laughed.

He was trying to be light hearted, but on this occasion Harry did not appreciate his callousness.

'I've been asked to do something for someone, and it's confidential. You should understand that. You're going to have to get used to it in the aurors, you know.' He said a little coldly.

'OK! That's it!' Ron gasped. 'What's the matter Harry? You've been off with me since yesterday, what's up?'

Harry didn't answer and simply sat in silence looking cross as he remembered it was Ron's fault he was carrying out this task after all.

'This isn't because I had a go at Malfoy, is it?' Ron asked incredulously. 'You've been funny with me since then!'

'It was a dick-head thing to do!' Harry snapped, answering Ron's question.

'Yeah, alright!' Ron replied, sounding hurt. 'I know it was, ok? I told you that yesterday. It was nothing, just something I had to get out of my system. I didn't even mean most of it.'

Inside, Harry felt even more cross on hearing this. Ron was completely unaware of all the trouble his words had caused, and he hadn't even meant them!

'Well, think twice next time!' Harry mumbled. 'And I don't suppose you've seen the papers today, have you?'

'Not yet.' Ron confessed.

'We're supposed to look at them first thing!' Harry chided him. It was part of their auror practice, keeping up to date with current affairs. 'If you had, you'd have seen minister Shacklebolt confirming that he and Malfoy are seeing each other and talking about how happy they are.'

Ron looked puzzled. This was hardly a surprise after the weekend.

'So if I were you...' Harry continued, 'I wouldn't be so quick to announce that I'd shouted a load of horrible things at Draco.' He warned.

Rons face fell as the penny dropped.

'You don't think... You don't think he told him, do you?' Ron panicked. 'You don't think Kingsley knows what I said?'

'How should I know?' Harry replied, keeping all of the information he did know secret. 'But I do know that Kingsley would be pretty defensive of Draco if anyone had a go at him. And minister Shacklebolt isn't someone I'd want to get on the wrong side of!'

Ron looked terrified, and rightly so, as he finally realised that what he had done **was** a big deal after all.

'Look, when I next see Malfoy I'll apologise, alright? I'll tell him I didn't mean it.'

'Good plan.' Harry affirmed. 'But you'll be very lucky if minister Shacklebolt doesn't find out about it, and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if he does. And all over a school yard fall out.' Harry concluded dryly.

'Look, Harry.' Ron said awkwardly. 'I'm gonna go see if Hermione wants to get out of here and go for lunch, somewhere a little further away from the ministry, you know? Don't suppose you want to come?'

'I gotta work on this.' Harry replied, although he respected Ron's decision to lay low for a little while. It was probably a good idea.

Ron slunk out of the dormitory feeling worse than he could remember feeling for a long time.

Harry spent the remainder of the day combing the streets of Covent Garden, calling into various letting agents and enquiring if they had let an apartment or a room to a young attractive blond guy recently. Mostly they were somewhat unhelpful, declaring they could not disclose details of clients under any circumstances. One rather camp estate agent simply laughed and told Harry if he had let a room to someone of that description he'd be keeping it a secret and calling round himself! Exasperated, Harry realised what had seemed like a sensible line of enquiry was actually proving to be rather unhelpful as these muggle estate agents thought he was simply a jilted lover looking for his run away ex.

On Wednesday Harry had a training session he couldn't miss and had to trust in Dobby and Hedwig to continue the search. He was distracted the entire day and came bottom in the class for the activities they were learning.

On Thursday he tried a different approach. He went to Westminster and approached letting agents telling them he himself wanted to let an apartment and then tried to find out what sort of places they had let recently to young men of about his age. His endeavours were as unsuccessful as previously. Feeling rather deflated he returned to the dormitory and sulked. Everybody else was out socialising. He was not in the mood.

Harry was just considering getting an early night when there was a sharp snap and Dobby appeared looking very excited.

'Harry Potter!' The little elf exclaimed. 'Harry Potter! Dobby has found him, Sir. Dobby has found Draco Malfoy!'

Harry jumped up from his bunk immediately and crouched down beside Dobby.

'Where is he?' He asked at once.

'Draco Malfoy is in a flat in Westminster, Sir.' Dobby announced, nodding his head.

'I looked all around there!' Harry exclaimed. 'Where about is he?'

'A quiet street near the cathedral.' Dobby told him. 'In one room. Dobby has seen him, Sir. He is living in one room and he just sits there... crying.'

Harry felt his throat tighten. The words might have been meaningless to Ron, but they hadn't been meaningless to Draco! He breathed a sigh of relief though. At least Draco was alive. He hadn't dared to show it in front of Kingsley, but Harry had been rather concerned that Draco might have done something stupid. At least he was alright.

'Well done, Dobby!' Harry cried. 'You've done brilliantly! Can you take me to him?'

'Harry Potter wants to go there now?' Dobby asked.

'Yeah. Yeah I do.' Harry confirmed. There was no time to waste. Who knew how long Draco was planning to stay there? 'Take me to the street please, Dobby and we'll make a plan from there.'

'Yes, Harry Potter, Sir!' Dobby squeaked and he took himself and Harry instantly to Morpeth Terrace, a quiet and elegant street in the Westminster district, a part of town with tall Georgian houses and wide tree lined streets.

'Very Malfoy!' Harry almost whispered. He should have known Draco wouldn't be in a dingy little flat above a chip shop.

Dobby gestured to a rather handsome building on the corner.

'Draco Malfoy is in there. In the top flat.' Dobby announced.

'Great! Thanks Dobby!' Harry enthused. Then he thought for a moment. 'OK Dobby, here's what's going to happen. You will have to get me inside, because I can't apparate yet. But fortunately neither can Draco. Even though he's turned 17, he hasn't got his licence yet, I checked the records.' Harry felt rather proud of himself for remembering to do this.

Dobby nodded, taking it all in.

'Once you've got me inside...' Harry continued, 'I need you to wait outside the building. It's possible that Draco won't want to see me and he might try to run away. If that happens I need you to follow him. Track him. If he runs, don't worry about me, I'll make my own way home, just follow Draco. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Harry Potter, Sir!' Dobby said seriously. 'Follow Draco Malfoy if he runs away and don't lose sight of him.'

Harry nodded and smiled. Dobby was excellent at things like this. Perhaps Dobby should be the auror, not him!

'I'm going to go in and talk to Draco. Hopefully he will be prepared to see me and he won't try to run. In which case, please wait for me and I'll see you when I come out.'

Dobby nodded.

'Can you take me into the building now?' Harry asked. 'Not into Draco's flat, but like, in the hallway outside it or something? So I can just knock on the door?'

'Of course, Harry Potter. Dobby can do that.' Dobby replied and with that he took the both of them into the building.

'That door there, Sir.' He said gesturing towards an apartment door.

'Thanks.' Said Harry, taking in his surroundings.

The building was nice. Clean, tidy, well appointed if a little featureless and cold.

'Dobby will be outside, Sir.' Dobby confirmed. 'Dobby will be ready to track Draco Malfoy.'

'Thanks Dobby.' Harry whispered as the little elf disappeared.

Harry sighed and braced himself as he approached the door. He knocked assertively and waited. When he heard footsteps inside, he ducked down below the viewer so that Draco wouldn't simply see him and refuse to open the door. His ploy worked, as the door handle slowly turned and the door opened a couple of inches, still held on the security chain.

'Who's there?' A defensive voice asked.

Harry leapt at the opportunity and jammed his foot into the doorway.

'Draco, it's me! It's Harry. Potter' He added, in case Draco had forgotten they were supposed to be on first name terms these days.

'Go away!' Draco hissed and Harry felt the door squashing his foot as Draco pushed his body weight against it.

Harry retaliated by doing the same and he had a clear weight advantage over skinny little Draco. There was no way Draco was going to be able to get the door shut with him leaning against it.

'Let me in, Draco!' He pleaded, tying to sound calm and non threatening.

'No! Go away!' Draco said, equally pleadingly.

'Look, it's just me.' Harry offered. 'I'm on my own. No one else knows you're here. Please, I just want to talk to you. Please let me in.'

'Leave me alone.' Draco almost sobbed.

'Please just listen to me.' Harry begged. 'Let me in and listen to what I've got to say. Then if you want me to leave, I promise I will...'

'Is there a problem here?' A broad London accent interrupted the conversation.

Harry glanced around. A well built man, with dark, middle eastern colouring had emerged from the flat next door and was staring at Harry with his foot in the door with some concern, his thick arms folded across his chest.

'No.' Harry replied at once. 'No, no problem.'

The man frowned at him.

'This guy giving you trouble, Dray?' He called through the door to Draco.

Harry heard Draco slide the security chain off the latch and he felt the pressure on the door lessen as Draco opened it.

'No. No, it's ok Asim. But thank you. I know him. He's an old friend.' A very tearful looking Draco offered meekly.

'Hummmm...' Asim seemed unconvinced. 'Well you leave your door off the latch if you're letting him in!' Asim instructed, eyeing Harry suspiciously. 'If he gives you any trouble, you just shout and I'll be over, ok?' He flexed his muscles.

Draco tried to smile.

'Thanks, Asim. It'll be alright, honestly.' He assured, stepping back and allowing Harry into the apartment.

Asim returned to his own flat, but Harry felt as though he probably had his ear to the wall trying to hear every word.

Draco shut the door behind Harry.

'I'm sorry about that.' Draco apologised.

Harry looked about him. The apartment was indeed, one open plan room. A kitchen at one end, a sofa in the middle and a bed at the other end with a tiny bathroom just off the bed area. It was nice enough, Harry supposed, but Draco wasn't someone who lived in one room! He could hardly consider this a permanent arrangement.

'So you're making friends with the locals?' Harry commented, a little shaken by the interaction in the corridor.

'He's been friendly enough.' Draco replied. 'But he's a muggle, of course.' He added. 'Not that I have a problem with muggles!' He added quickly, 'It's just that, well, I've never really met any of them before and a feel a bit... I don't know...'

Draco was digging. Harry could see how uncomfortable he felt. What he was trying to say was _'I'm scared of muggles because I was bought up to believe they were barbarians, but actually they seem quite civilised but I'm still a little uncomfortable talking to them because I've always been told they were so inherently different from me.'_ Harry smiled at him to let him know it was ok. He felt sorry for Draco who was probably terrified each time this friendly neighbour, who seemed to have a bit of a crush on him, popped by or said hello.

'Nice place...' Harry remarked. 'Nice part of town. You staying here long?' He said casually, hoping to draw Draco out.

'Sit down if you like, Potter.' Draco offered. 'I'd offer you tea but I don't have any.'

'No problem.' Harry replied, taking a seat on the sofa.

Looking a little reluctant, Draco sat beside him.

'So what is it you came to say?' Draco asked. 'You didn't practically knock my door down to tell me you like my apartment, did you?'

Harry looked at him earnestly.

'Draco, I came to talk to you about Kingsley, about Ron, about why you ran away...'

Draco sighed sounding tired and emotional.

'Please just listen!' Harry asked calmly.

Draco nodded reluctantly.

'Ron was an idiot to say those things to you.' Harry decided this was a good place to start. 'Even he admitted he didn't even mean them, he was just being nasty, to get his own back after school.'

Draco looked a little uncomfortable. He knew his behaviour in school had been bad, but he had grown up so much since then after everything he had been through he hadn't been prepared for the delayed comeback for his past behaviour. Part of him wondered if he deserved it after how he had treated people.

'I told him straight how out of line he was.' Harry continued.

Draco looked a little shocked. Potter had stuck up for him! Clearly he had done the right thing by trying to get him on side on Saturday. It had worked! But it didn't make a difference, not really. Potter might have challenged one person's low opinion of Draco, but if Weasley thought all that stuff about him, then probably the rest of the world did too.

'Thanks.' Draco said quietly, acknowledging the gesture.

'Kingsley's in bits, you know.' Harry said sadly. 'He's absolutely devastated, Draco.'

Draco's eyes filled with tears.

'He's better off without me!' He sobbed.

'I don't think he thinks so.' Harry said firmly. 'Seriously, Draco, he's a broken man. I've never seen him cry before.'

Draco gripped the edge of the sofa and sobbed.

'Why are you making this harder for me than it already is?' He asked tearfully. 'I didn't want to leave him, you know, but I had to. It was the right thing to do.'

'I don't agree.' Harry challenged.

'You don't understand!' Draco snapped. 'People hate me and they love Kingsley. I can't let my vile background and sordid reputation become a blot on his character! I... I love him too much to let that happen!'

'You love him?' Harry echoed.

'Of course I love him!' Draco exclaimed through his desperate tears. 'How could I not love him? But it's because I love him that I can't be the person who ruins his life and his career.'

'Draco, why are you so determined that you would ruin his career?' Harry asked. 'You ran away before you had a chance to see the Prophet article that ran on Tuesday, didn't you? People don't hate you, Draco, they really don't.'

Draco was crying properly now, his breathing was rapid and he was too distressed to form sentences. Harry wasn't quite sure what to do. He stood up and went to the kitchen where he found a glass and bought Draco some water. He sat down, much nearer to him this time and put his arm around his shoulder.

'Hey, it's alright!' Harry soothed. 'Please don't cry. I don't want your friend to come over here and beat the crap out of me!'

For a split second, Draco almost laughed through his tears. From his pocket he drew a wand and handed it to Harry, uttering the words

'Silencing... charm...'

'Oh, Yeah.' Harry replied, wondering why he hadn't thought of it.

He cast the spell with Draco's wand, to save getting his own out from his jacket. It felt odd, he could tell it wasn't his own, but it cast the spell as requested, perhaps because Draco had suggested it. He passed the wand back to its owner.

'Everyone... hates... me...' Draco stammered through his sobs.

Harry felt compelled to pull Draco into his arms and hug him. It was probably hugely inappropriate, but how could you sit with someone who was crying like this and in such distress and not hold them? It would have been inhuman.

Draco didn't seem to think it was inappropriate because he hugged Harry back and sobbed deeply and bitterly into his shoulder. Harry gripped him a little awkwardly. He hadn't quite expected this level of physical contact. It was ok though, after a few moments, but Draco just kept crying and crying.

Harry gently stroked his back. Draco was wearing only a light cotton t-shirt and Harry couldn't help but notice how thin he was. He really was a little bag of bones, the poor thing. Harry could feel his ribs through his shirt. He felt a little as if he were petting a skinny stray cat which he would be compelled to leave some food out for.

Eventually, Draco's tears began to lessen and his breathing became calmer. Harry decided to attempt to talk again.

'Draco, listen. People don't hate you. In face people mostly feel sorry for you for what you've been through, which they should!' Harry affirmed. 'Kingsley adores you! He so badly wants you to come home. He's talked to the papers, told them all about how he's fallen for you and the two of you are so happy together. People are happy for both of you.'

Draco didn't quite know how to respond. Surely, this was too good to hope for? People didn't really think that way, did they? He wasn't sure if he believed it.

'If only you would come home, I know everything would be alright.' Harry said comfortingly.

'How can I?' Draco asked sadly. 'After everything I have put Kingsley through, how could I possibly go crawling back to him? I don't deserve him, Harry. Think about it. Those things Weasley said to me, let's be honest, I deserved them. I was so horrible when I was at school, it's no wonder people out there hate me. I don't deserve someone like Kingsley, do I?'

Harry sighed and put his arm around Draco's shoulders again.

'That was school!' He said, shaking his head. 'It was a long time ago, well, at least, it feels like it was. We've changed haven't we. We've all grown up. We had to, didn't we? Especially you... And don't worry...' Harry added, noticing the fear in Draco's eyes, 'I'm never going to ask you about what happened to you... But you, and I, for different reasons, we're not the same people we were a year ago.'

Harry paused to gage Draco's reaction. Draco wasn't smiling, but he was sitting up a little more and was facing Harry, receptive and listening.

'Ron said what he said because of school yard nonsense, things that aren't even relevant now. He acted without thinking, but you took it to heart. I don't blame you, by the way, but you ran away for no reason! We aren't school children any more, Draco. You just told me you love Kingsley. You can't really be prepared to throw that away over a school yard argument? Especially not after everything you've been through. You've survived imprisonment and Merlin only knows what else! You stood trial, lost your home and your parents, survived and recovered from potion addiction... And you've fallen in love. Surely you're not going to give up on that over a few dumb comments from Ron Weasley?'

Draco sat silently as Harry's words sunk in. He felt very foolish. A tear rolled down his cheek.

'Why are you being so nice to me?' He asked quietly.

'I fought a battle, Draco.' Harry said flatly. 'I survived a killing curse, I honestly thought I wouldn't, you know. I saw friends die, and saw families torn apart... After all that, I'm not going to stay hung up on a schoolboy quarrel, you know. I risked my life and lost friends for the freedom of the wizarding world and I didn't do it to watch as my friends throw away the chance to be happy. And Kingsley **is** my friend, you know...' Harry told him plainly, 'and perhaps, in future, you could be, too?'

Draco looked gobsmacked. He hadn't thought for one moment that Harry would actually consider a friendship with him! He thought he'd done well simply to get to be on speaking terms.

'You'd be friends, with me?' He asked disbelievelingly.

'Yeah.' Said Harry with a smile.

Draco smiled too now.

'You know I'm still really spoilt and annoying?' He offered.

Harry laughed.

'Well Kingsley doesn't seem to mind, does he?' He replied.

'He's too good to me.' Draco smiled.

'So don't throw it away.' Harry urged. 'Look, you don't have to do anything tonight. Stay here, sleep on it. Think about what I said.'

Harry stood up and Draco followed him to the door.

'Thank you for coming, Potter.' Draco said sincerely. 'It means a lot to me that you did. I've felt so hated and despised, but knowing that you don't hate me, well, it's nice to have someone on my side, even if it is just for Kingsley's sake.'

'It's not just for his sake.' Harry clarified. 'It's for both of you. You're alive, you both survived the war. You have a chance to have a happy life together. There are a lot of people who don't have that, you know. Don't throw it away.'

With that, Harry affectionately squeezed Draco's arm for a second before he let himself out of the flat. He hurried down the stairs, feeling pleasantly surprised at his ability to talk to someone in distress and be comforting. He was 99% convinced that Draco would think about what he said and would come home again. The 1% doubt however prompted him to task Dobby with the job of watching Draco constantly through the night, just in case he decided to run away again.


	15. Chapter 15

By Friday, Kingsley Shacklebolt was catatonic with stress. Draco had been gone for 5 days. 5 days and no word from him, was he alright? Was he even alive? Anything could have happened to him. Running away was one thing but running away without any word that he was alright was something else. This was a selfish side of Draco which Kingsley was less fond of! And why was it taking Potter so long to find Draco anyway? Draco was a fairly naive boy and Potter was training to be an auror... It shouldn't be taking this long!

Kingsley stomped his was along the corridor on his way back to his office feeling very angry. Angry with Harry... angry with Draco... and he knew full well that being angry with either of them was completely unfair. Harry didn't have to help him, after all. He should be grateful for any help Harry was prepared to give. And Draco, poor frightened Draco, had run away because some jerk had been unkind to him. He had run away because he was scared, had low self esteem and thought himself undeserving. He didn't really deserve anger, either!

Never the less, Kingsley felt angry. He was having a horrible week. The stress of putting a brave face on every morning so that no one would know anything was wrong was taking its toll. Climbing into bed alone each night and holding the pillow which Draco had used because it still smelled a little bit like him broke Kingsley's heart. If only he would come home! It was all so pointless, all of this pain, all because of some idiot in the street and some vindictive newspaper article!

Witch Weekly! Antigone DeLacy... Kingsley scowled and tensed his fists, and it was just at this moment he rounded the corner and was suddenly face to face with Aarion. At last! Someone he could be angry with! It might not help in the long run, but after 4 nights of very little sleep and days of stress and angst, Kingsley was pretty sure that rearranging Aarion's face would make him feel a whole lot better.

Aarion froze for a second when he saw Kingsley and then he turned as if he was going to run, but there was nowhere to go. Kingsley spun round and cornered him against the wall.

Looking around for help and witnesses, Aarion grabbed his wand and pointed it at Kingsley.

In a split second, Kingsley had drawn his own wand and with a cry of...

'Expelliarmus!'

Kingsley sent Aarion's wand flying from his hand.

Aarion looked panic stricken.

'Don't be a fool, DeLacy!' Kingsley barked, looming over him. 'You couldn't beat me in a duel, I'd paste you to the wall in seconds.'

Aarion didn't try to argue as this was probably accurate.

'Wand or no wand, I'll mess you up, you son of a bitch!' Kingsley growled, stepping closer.

'Kingsley, please!' Aarion pleaded. 'Please, listen to me! I didn't know Antigone was going to print that article, I swear it! I didn't tell her so she could print a story, I swear!'

Kingsley grabbed Aarion by the front of his robes and pushed him up against the wall aggressively and held him there.

'Your sister's a newspaper editor and you thought if you told her a scandalous story about the minister for magic, somehow it wouldn't end up in print?' Kingsley scoffed. 'You might have turned into a vindictive little bitch in your old age, Aarion, but I didn't think you were stupid with it!'

'It wasn't like that!' Aarion pleaded.

'Do you realise how much you hurt Draco?' Kingsley hissed.

Aarion's eyes were suddenly blurry with tears.

'I didn't mean to.' He exclaimed passionately.

Kingsley released him from his grip and stepped back, although the anger was far from gone from his face.

'You wanna have a go at me...' He goaded... 'Step right up and give it your best shot!' He opened his arms, inviting Aarion to take a swing for him. 'You can hurt me all you want, Aarion. It's me you're angry with after all, isn't it? It's me, who you think drove you away from Draco. Me who seduced him and kept him all for myself. So by all means, you can take a pop at me, but going to the papers like that was a cheap shot! Oh, it doesn't bother me being gossiped about, but it bothers Draco! The last thing he wanted was yet another article speculating about him, belittling him, painting him as a victim. As you pointed out to me, he's only 17 years old and he's been through hell. He's trying to build himself back up and feel normal again and every article like that knocks him back.'

A tear ran down Aarion's cheek.

'You said you cared about him, DeLacy!' Kingsley hissed crossly. 'Gossiping about him and dragging his name and personal life through the papers is a funny way of showing it!'

'I didn't know she would print it!' Aarion pleaded again. 'It was stupid and naive of me, I know. Antigone is as devious as they come, I should never have trusted her, but I... I was so hurt... I...'

He trailed off for a moment and then began again.

'I really liked Draco, perhaps more than you realised. I can't explain it, there was just something about him, I... I suppose I don't really need to explain it, I guess you felt it too...'

Kingsley said nothing and waited for the rest of this feeble explanation.

'I saw Antigone at a family get together.' Aarion explained. 'I was foolish, I was drowning my sorrows. She listened to me, gave me a shoulder to cry on. I asked her not to tell anyone. I was an idiot, Kingsley, I know I was. I was a complete, drunken, heartbroken idiot, but I swear I never meant to hurt anyone. Least of all, Draco.'

Had Kingsley been less tired, angry and heartbroken himself, he might have been able to muster a little more empathy for Aarion, as he did believe him that it had never been his intention for the story to be printed. However, hurt, devastated and anxious as he was, and with no one else to take it out on, Kingsley felt rather less generous than he could have done in other circumstances.

'You're a fool!' Kingsley snapped, grabbing Aarion and pinning him against the wall again. 'Even if Draco wasn't with me, you would never have deserved him anyway! Draco deserves far better than you! I swear to the Gods, I oughta fuck you up, you piece of shi...'

Just at that moment Harry rounded the corner on his way up to the canteen for a coffee. His head was already full of conflicting ideas about what he should do about Draco and Kingsley. Should he go back to see Draco again and see if he had listened to his advice? Should he tell Kingsley where Draco was, or would Draco feel that he had betrayed his trust if he did that? Had Draco listened to him and was he planning to return to Kingsley of his own accord? If that were the case it would be best to let him do it in his own time, but how long was he going to take? And how much was the stress of waiting affecting Kingsley, Harry wondered?

As he rounded the corner and was met with the shocking sight of the minister for magic pinning a ministry employee to the wall, Harry felt his question had been answered. It was affecting Kingsley in a big way! The stress of pretending everything was alright was getting to him. Harry started when he saw the scene and his arrival attracted the attention of both men who turned to look at him. All three of them seemed a little unsure how to respond.

Desperate to prevent his friend from doing something he would regret, Harry spoke up.

'Minister! I must speak with you. I have important news!' He exclaimed.

Kingsley responded exactly the way Harry hoped he would. He let go of the man he was clearly about to punch and turned to face Harry, his eyes alight with excitement and hope.

'Come with me to my office, Harry.' Kingsley said at once.

Harry nodded and set off immediately, wanting to get Kingsley away from this volatile situation. However, Kingsley turned back to Aaron before he left.

'You are either far more vindictive or far more stupid than I believed you to be.' He concluded. 'I hope your proud of yourself, you son of a bitch.'

Kingsley didn't hit Aaron. He wanted to, it would have been very satisfying, but probably not worth it in the long run. The minister for magic could hardly go around assaulting employees as and when he felt like it, could he? Plus, now that Harry had good news, the world didn't seem quite so bad after all and perhaps kicking Aaron into the middle of next week was unnecessary in the end?

Kingsley steadied his emotions and walked away.

Harry's heart thumped inside his chest. He had been forming the opinion that it would be best to let Draco return of his own accord, perhaps visiting him again just to make sure he had reached the right decision, but letting him approach Kingsley in the way that was best for him. Now however, Harry was going to have to have something significant to tell Kingsley. He had lured him away from a punch up with the promise of information. If Harry failed to provide it he was a little concerned that he might become a substitute punch bag now that he had saved the man in the corridor from that undesirable fate.

Kingsley hurried Harry into the office and shut the door, looking at Harry with anxious expectation.

'Well...?' He asked imploringly. 'Have you found him?'

A direct question. Harry sighed. He couldn't tell another direct lie. He had lied to Kingsley once this week about not knowing who it was who had upset Draco, and that had been hard enough to do!

'Errr... Yes.' Harry replied nervously.

'Oh Gods! Harry, that's wonderful!' Kingsley exclaimed. 'Is he alright? Where is he? Did you talk to him?'

Harry took a deep breath. He was going to have to tell Kingsley everything.

'He's in London. Muggle London. In Westminster, actually...'

Kingsley gasped.

'I guess he didn't really know anywhere else to go!' He exclaimed, shocked and slightly touched that Draco had run away to the first place they had been together.

'That's right.' Harry confirmed. 'He's OK, well... He's in a little flat there. I spoke to him, yes. He didn't want to see me at first by he agreed in the end. He was very upset. He was worried that everyone hated him and that he would bring shame onto you. When I told him about the article in the Prophet on Tuesday I think he was relieved, but then he felt bad for having left. He said he couldn't come back, not after what he'd put you through...'

Kingsley gasped again as though he were about to interject, but Harry continued.

'I told him you knew about him being shouted at in the street. I told him you knew why he had left and that you understood why he was so upset...'

Kingsley nodded. He did understand, and he knew he should have listened to Draco more instead of simply dismissing his fears and telling him not to worry.

'What did he say?' Kingsley asked.

'He's said he loves you.' Harry said simply.

Kingsley sat down, bowled over by this statement. Draco loved him!

'I think he wants to come back, you know.' Harry said gently. 'He's just scared that he's messed things up. I told him to think about it. This was last night. I said sleep on it and see how he felt today... I left a house elf guarding him, secretly, just in case he did decide to run away again!' Harry added quickly.

Kingsley smiled a half sad half enthusiastic smile.

'And that is why you'll make such a brilliant Auror!' He praised. 'Listen Harry, can you tell me exactly where he is? I need to go and speak to him. I know he's the one who ran away, but Merlin knows, he's been through enough! He's gonna keep blaming himself and thinking he can't come back because he doesn't deserve to, isn't he. ?'

'That is the sort of thing he was saying.' Harry confirmed.

'So I need to go and speak to him myself, don't I?' Kingsley pushed. 'I need to be able to let him know I'm not angry with him and simply want to chance to actually begin the happy life together that I've been telling the papers about all week... if that's what he wants, of course!'

Harry nodded. It was Kingsley who needed to speak to Draco after all. He had said his bit, been an emissary on Kingsley's behalf, but this was between Draco and Kingsley really. Only they could sort it out. Reaching for a quill and a piece of parchment, Harry wrote down the address and handed it to the minister.

'Thanks you Harry, for everything you've done.' Kingsley said sincerely.

Harry nodded as he went to the door.

'I hope it goes well for you.' He said kindly.

'So do I.' Kingsley replied. 'So do I.'

Kingsley worried all afternoon that Draco might flee before he had the chance to get round to the address to see him, but it was proving impossible to get away today. Things kept appearing which needed his attention and he just couldn't abandon the ministry to sort out his personal life. It was 6.30 before he was able to close down everything he was working on and make his excuses for a quick getaway.

He apparated to the street which Harry had identified for him and surreptitiously used magic to gain entrance to the building where he knew Draco was staying. He had to admit, he was impressed with the area. Draco certainly shared his good taste. All the more reason why they were perfect together. He felt a renewed sense of determination to make things alright.

Such had been his hurry to get to the apartment, Kingsley, who was more than capable of dressing like a muggle, had not even bothered to change out of his traditional robes. He felt rather conspicuous. When he reached the top floor and encountered a young man who he realised lived in the flat next door to Draco, he hoped the man was not too puzzled by his clothing. Asim, raised in a multicultural area of the city, didn't bat an eyelid, assuming Kingsley's robes to be some sort of traditional dress. Asim was far more interested in the fact that a handsome, masculine older man was visiting his young, attractive and rather effeminate neighbour. The idea was rather intriguing and appealing.

Kingsley summoned his courage and knocked on the door simply praying that Draco was still there. He waited for a couple of tense seconds before he heard the sweet, familiar voice which made his heart sing.

'Who's there?' Draco called in as cheery a tone as he could manage. He had the vague suspicion it could be Asim who had taken to calling on him from time to time.

Outside in the corridor Kingsley cleared his throat.

'It's me. Kingsley.' He called awkwardly. 'Can I come in?'

Inside the apartment Draco's heart leapt and he felt so many emotions in the space of a split second he could hardly process them all. Initially he was delighted simply to hear Kingsley's voice again. Then he was thrilled by the idea that Kingsley had actually come here to find him. Then he panicked because what if Kingsley had come to tell him not to bother coming back after all...?

One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to find out the answer while they were on separate sides of a door. He hurried to open it.

There was an intense moment as the door swung open and both Draco and Kingsley looked at each other after several days apart. Draco was shocked all over again at just how attractive Kingsley was, particularly as he was so beautifully dressed in traditional robes. Draco hadn't seen anyone so well dressed for the past week and it delighted him all the more. It also made him feel a little embarrassed about what he was wearing. He had tried to dress to be inconspicuous in the muggle part of the city.

Kingsley stared at him. Was it possible that Draco was even more adorable than he had remembered? He was wearing skin tight black jeans, fashionably ripped in places. He wore a close fitted white sleeveless t-shirt which was cut quite wide at the neck making it very flattering. To make his muggle look more authentic, he also wore a short necklace on a leather cord and a long string of beads around his neck, an expensive looking watch on his wrist and a couple of causal but classic bracelets on the other. Kingsley had never imagined seeing Draco in muggle clothes, but he looked just perfect.

They stated in mutual appreciation for a couple of seconds until they bother realised, seeing the adoring looks on each other's faces, there was no need to fear.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, so did Kingsley but somehow neither of them could find the words. Instead they simply dived into each other's arms in a deep, intense embrace. Then the tears started, for both of them.

'Come in...' Draco managed through breathy tears of relief, guilt and happiness all at once.

Kingsley stepped into the flat without letting go of Draco, they almost stepped in unison and somehow managed to slam the door behind them without breaking out of their embrace.

Safely in the privacy of the flat, words started to come a little easier.

'Kingsley I'm so sorry!' Draco exclaimed passionately. 'I'm so, so sorry! Can you ever forgive me?'

Kingsley kissed him over and over on his face and hair.

'Of course I forgive you!' He exclaimed. 'You were frightened. I should have listened to you.'

'I should have talked to you and not just run away!' Draco gushed. 'I should have trusted you to make things alright.'

'I should have taken your concerns more seriously.' Kingsley replied. 'I should have realised it would be you who saw the negative responses, not me... I know someone said something to you.' He added. 'I know that's why you left. I'm not angry with you.'

'I deserved what they said.' Draco said tearfully. 'I...'

'No you didn't!' Kingsley exclaimed, but Draco interjected,

'I kind of did really.' He said calmly. 'It was someone who knew me from school and to be honest, I wasn't very nice to them back then. I think they just wanted some insults to throw. I wasn't... I wasn't always very nice to people back then you know.' Draco confessed.

Kingsley smiled and shook his head.

'But you're grown up now. People will have to realise that.' He said.

'I guess I need to be brave enough to show them, don't I?' Draco replied.

'That would involve you coming back, wouldn't it?' Kingsley smiled.

Draco nodded and looked about him. His few possessions were packed up into a small case and the flat was immaculately clean ready for him to depart.

Kingsley smiled again.

'I was going to come to see you this evening and ask if you would take me back.' Draco explained.

Kingsley pulled him back into a tight embrace.

'Oh Gods, Draco! It's not even a question! Of course you can come back!'

Draco hugged Kingsley tightly and buried his face against him crying happy tears.

'But can you really forgive me for leaving you?' Draco asked at last, pulling back from Kingsley's embrace.

Kingsley looked at him and smiled a wistful and adoring smile.

'I'd say it makes us about even, actually. You forgave me when I kept leaving you after the first few times we were together. I know how bad that made you feel. We were still able to start over, weren't we?'

Draco smiled back. Kingsley was always so kind!

'Yes. I guess we were.' He replied.

Kingsley looked about himself at the neat and bright room.

'Nice place you got here.' He grinned.

'Thanks.' Draco replied. 'I didn't really know what to expect from muggle London, This place is small, but I thought they might all be like this, I don't know. Apparently they're not though, are they?'

'Not all of them, no.' Kingsley answered with a gentle smile, realising how brave Draco had been to even come to muggle London when he knew nothing about muggles except the scare mongering stories he had been told as a child.

'It's been ok though.' Draco told him. 'The muggles have been alright really.'

'I must admit you look damn cute in muggle clothes!' Kingsley grinned, stepping towards Draco who leant back against the wall.

Draco blushed.

'I didn't really know what they wore, they seem to wear all sorts of different things, so I looked out for people who looked a bit like me and tried to copy them...'

'No one looks like you!' Kingsley whispered, close to Draco's face. 'Only you could be this perfect!'

Draco's lips just had time to curl into a smile when Kingsley gently touched his own against them. This was the gentle, teasing, flirtatious 'first' kiss he should have given Draco in the first place, back when they began.

He slipped his arms around Draco's waist and pressed his mouth more tightly over Draco's. Draco had longed for these kisses! Leaning back against the wall, he pressed his body forwards against Kingsley's, his pale hands slid up Kingsley's broad back and held him tightly and he kissed him back with a deep, burning affection.

Kingsley felt overwhelming delight and relief as he took his little Draco in his big strong arms again. There had been moments throughout the last week when he had thought he had lost him forever, and the pain of thinking about living without him had been too much to bare. Now, here he was, just as beautiful and perfect as Kingsley remembered him. Real, adoring, yielding and wanting. Kissing with such passion it was hard to imagine that they had ever managed any time apart at all!

Kingsley pulled back from Draco's lips but kept his body pressed against him. He gently stroked his face, wiping away the tear stains.

'I've missed you so much, baby.' He whispered.

'I've missed you too. I'm sorry.' Draco replied sincerely.

'I was worried about you.' Kingsley told him with great concern. 'I was even worried about how you would get on if you came to muggle London, but you seem to have done pretty well.' He smiled. 'I was forgetting how resilient and resourceful you are.'

Draco shook his head.

'Not really.' He confessed. 'I ran away in such a state, I didn't really think things through properly.'

'You managed to get clothes, pass as a muggle guy, find somewhere to stay... Seriously, a lot of wizards couldn't manage that!' Kingsley said. 'I guess you changed some Galleons for muggle money?'

Draco looked down sheepishly.

'Errrr... I kind of forgot to do that before I ran away.' He confessed. 'I... err... picked up some stones in the park and I... I transfigured them.' He admitted with a guilty look on his pretty face.

Kingsley looked shocked at first, but then he smiled. It was a crime, but it was a fairly minor one.

'Draco!' He exclaimed a note of teasing in his voice. 'You know that's illegal, right?' He clarified.

Draco had caught the a glimpse of his smile and noticed his tone of voice.

He put his hands up in submission and he grinned playfully.

'So arrest me then, minister!' Draco whispered in a sultry tone.

Kingsley took hold of Draco's wrists and firmly but gently pinned him to the wall.

'I might just have to do that, Mr Malfoy!' He whispered back. 'I'll certainly need to keep a very close eye on you from now on!'

With that, Kingsley swept Draco up into his arms and carried him the small distance across the room to the bed. Without another word he lay Draco down and climbed on top of him, kissing him softly, holding him tightly.

Draco's cold little hands gripped Kingsley's face possessively as they kissed. Kingsley had moved between Draco's legs and Draco loved the feeling of his body weight on him. He had missed it so much!

'Oh, Draco baby!' Kingsley whispered. 'I've missed you like crazy! Tomorrow morning I'm gonna take you home and then I'm never gonna let you leave me again!'

The second the words fell from his lips Kingsley's heart almost stopped and his stomach flipped in horror. What a stupid thing to say! What a terribly insensitive thing to say to someone who had been held as a captive sex slave! Kingsley froze and instantly pulled back onto his knees.

Draco, who had been so lost in the moment almost hadn't noticed the comment or hadn't really taken it in properly, not until Kingsley had pulled away from him and Draco saw the look of horror on his face.

'Oh Gods! Draco I'm so sorry!' Kingsley exclaimed at once. 'I didn't mean that... I don't know why I said that! I didn't mean I would lock you up! I'm so sorry!'

Draco pushed himself up into a seated position, his legs still parted, one button of his jeans now unfastened, his hair tousled from rolling on the bed. He looked thoughtful for a second.

'Kingsley, please don't worry!' He replied calmly. 'I know you didn't mean anything like that and I really don't want you to worry about every little comment you make to me. I understand, and I appreciate your empathy for what I've been through, I really do! But I'm alright... Well, I'm getting there, at least.'

'Really?' Kingsley asked tentatively.

'Really.' Draco replied. 'Turns out I'm more of a fighter than I thought I was... either that or my Slytherin survival instincts have kicked in, big time. I'm determined to not let what happened to me affect my whole life, and that includes my relationship with you. You're allowed to say things like that to me, because I trust you and I know you would never hurt me.'

Kingsley was deeply touched and slightly in awe.

'It was thoughtless of me.' He replied. 'And you're right, you know, I would never hurt you.'

'I know.' Draco answered softly. 'Look, I went through a really traumatic time, it messed me up pretty bad, but I really am doing ok now. I don't want you to feel like you have to walk on egg shells around me. I'm going to be ok. I'm resilient, remember?' Draco smiled. 'I'm not saying I'm never going to have bad days or get upset if stuff comes up, I can't promise that... But I'm not going to freak out over every little thing either. I thought about it a lot last night, after Potter spoke to me... You know he came here, right?'

'Yes, I know that.' Kingsley admitted. 'He wanted to help.'

'He's such a good guy!' Draco exclaimed, a little jadedly. 'Are you sure you wouldn't be better off with someone like him?'

Kingsley laughed.

'I prefer my boyfriends a little more naughty than nice.' He replied with a grin. 'But I'm glad Harry spoke to you if it's made you feel a bit better.'

'He made me think about a lot of things actually.' Draco said reflectively. 'He pointed out that I had run away over something so small and was throwing away something so important because I was scared to hold my ground. I always thought I was cut out to be a lover not a fighter, but... love is something worth fighting for, so... I guess maybe I can be both.'

'Love...' Kingsley smiled affectionately.

'Love...' Draco repeated. 'I love you, Kingsley, I really do.'

'I love you, Draco.' Kingsley whispered tenderly. 'I love you so much!'

'So stop talking and kiss me!' Draco whispered back. 'Honestly minister! It's been nearly a week, I don't think I can wait much longer!'

Kingsley laughed a little as he moved closer again. He loved bossy, demanding Draco!

They spent the night together, there in the tiny flat in muggle London. They quite forgot to cast a silencing charm and Asim in the flat next door found himself turning down his television and listening intently to his cute neighbour with his hot lover. Asim would have preferred to have been the one who was fucking the adorable little blond, but the next best thing would certainly have been to be able to watch what sounded like a spectacular show! However, with no magical powers to look through the walls, Asim had to content himself with listening.

Sunlight flooded into the room the following morning and when Kingsley awoke he was, for a moment, unsure where he was. One thing he was instantly sure of was the boy who was laying in his arms. He smiled contentedly as Draco opened his eyes and smiled up at him.

'Morning baby.' Kingsley whispered.

'Morning minister.' Draco grinned playfully.

'So...' Kingsley said, without standing on ceremony, 'Are you ready to come home?'

Draco's grey eyes sparkled as he looked lovingly at Kingsley. He really was the best thing in his life and whilst a part of Draco was still not quite sure he really deserved him, he was rapidly getting used to the idea that maybe he did!

'Yes.' Draco said confidently in reply. 'Yes. Yes, I'm ready.'

The End.


End file.
